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inmyheaddd · 2 months ago

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when you're close to me - grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: trying to get grayson hawthorne to have a reset day— lots of laughs... lots of kisses... not much of the reset day actually taking place... wc: 1.2k

grayson stood in front of you, hands resting on your waist as you sat on top of the sink counter and held his chin with one hand, the other carefully applying a facemark on his forehead with a brush. you focused on your task, determined to make it look perfect.

you had ordered him to close his eyes so you could put the mask on, even though he didn’t need to— not in any sense that was practical— but it was simply because his gaze was making you far too flustered to focus on the task at hand. the fact that he was this close only made it more difficult.

“i don’t see why this is necessary,” grayson mumbled, his eyes still shut as you let go of his chin to hold his hair back.

“because,” you reasoned with a hum in your voice, “it just is.” you paused for a moment, “this is how reset days work. you’ve been so caught up in work, so let me just… do this for you.” you mumbled, evening out the shape of the grey mask on his forehead.

“i don’t need a reset day,” he countered calmly, “i’m fine.”

you almost let out a snort. “you most definitely do need a reset day.”

grayson let out a slow exhale. “i’ve handled the past 20 years of my life without one. but, thank you for your consideration.”

you rolled your eyes affectionately, though he couldnt even see you.

“thank you for your consideration,” you mumbled under your breath in mockery of his words. you huffed, “i’m going to kill you.” you were still muttering to yourself, to which you heard him laugh and open his eyes at.

grayson tilted his head to the side, raising one of his brows up at you before he asked, “i’m sorry?”

“you heard me,” you responded, lowering your voice to add to the effect, “i know people…” you were happy to see his eyes again and see how they glittered with humour in this moment, but you couldn’t help but chide him for disrupting your ever-so-important endeavour of applying his facemask. “and, stop moving.” you continued as you pressed a thumb under his jaw, turning his face toward you again.

grayson ignored your ominous and extremely serious threat and closed his eyes again with the barest hint of a smile on his face.

he stilled for a long moment, and you were getting along quite nicely with the mask, and you were even about to move to the rest of his face. that was until he furrowed his brows again. “may i just ask, what is in this?”

your hand dropped down to your sides with a huff.

“oh my god,” you shut him up with a laugh as you shut your eyes for a quick moment, “grayson!”

grayson opened his eyes. the corners of his lips flickered up into a smile.

for a moment, you stayed looking at eachother, feeling your own lips twitch as you held back a smile. it instantly became impossible for the both of you to hold back your laughter anymore.

usually, you thought perfection was impossible. but it was here, it was effortless with grayson—his head tilted back slightly, grey eyes crinkled, and his usual composure slipping for just a second — beaming with that smile of his that was rare to everyone but you. you wanted to simply kiss his face all over until you were both sick of it.

clearly, he must’ve been thinking the same thing, as he looked at you with affection swirling behind those icy grey eyes of his.

a laugh escaped him while he shook his head amusedly, with one of his hands that were previously on your waist moved to cup your cheek, “i deeply apologise, sweetheart.” he murmured lowly, his lips sliding into a coy smile. “i understand your face mask duties hold a lot of importance.”

you yourself were still smiling, “oh shut up, you.” you muttered back, your faces inches apart.

his gaze flickered to your lips right before you wordlessly leaned in to a kiss.

at first, you giggled against his lips. that was before melting into the kiss with a lingering smile between you,

you hopped down from the counter, and wrapped your arms around his neck as his other hand moved to your face. the gentleness of his touch and the kiss sent a swarm of butterflies right to your stomach.

you felt light on your toes as his lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, and you could still feel the slight smile on his lips against you.

his fingers curled at your waist, not pulling you closer, just resting there, like he liked the feeling of you this close.

and you—god, you could barely think. you just felt. the warmth of his touch, the soft pressure of his lips, the slight tilt of his head as he kept leaning in, deepening the kiss until—

you shrieked.

you felt something cool, slightly tacky on your forehead…

it was near comical, the way grayson’s brows furrowed so quickly when you pulled back, and just as quickly smoothed over when he saw the laugh on your face.

he was still confused, clearly, but the smile you held soothed his worries.

he tilted his head, trying to understand. “love,” he searched your eyes fore any hint of explanation, unable to hold back a little smile because of your own laughter. “what’s the matter?”

you covered your mouth, dissolving into a giggling mess. "your forehead," you choked out, wiping your own forehead that was touching his with the back of your hand. “it’s.. it’s wet.”

his expression blanked, a single brow raising in that oh so grayson way of his. and then, realization dawned.

the face mask.

he exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he ran a hand down his face. “that’s enough of this," he muttered, moving past you and turning on the sink.

you were a laughing mess, and you stumbled backwards, leaning against the back wall. you watched him roll his sleeves up and lean over the sink while he washed his face haphazardly— and dried it just as quickly.

“grayson!” you managed to get out with your little laughs. “why did you wash it off?,” you were the one complaining now, though it was all jokes. you fake pouted, “that was expensive.”

he turned back, and his expression was half amused and half exasperated.

he ran a hand through his hair as he looked at you before he started walking to you. “i washed it off,” he started lowly as he got to you in two strides, “so i’d be able to do this.”

you fought back a smile, and kept your eyes on him as he got to you. those same butterflies erupted in your stomach tenfold when his hands went to your waist, pulling you into him before his lips pressed into yours.

just moments before, you were smiling because of laughter, but this time you were unable to stop the grin on your face because you simply felt so.. peaceful. fulfilled, even. you doubted you could ever get sick of being like this with him.

one hand moved to hold where your jaw met your neck, pulling you closer.

no interruptions this time.

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#grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #tig #tgg #grayson hawthorne fanfic #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne fluff #❦ jude writes

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m0nnypie · 2 days ago

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I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Summary: Just the pov of Finnick loving you over the years, and remembering everything about you

Warnings: cute but with a bit of angst on Finn's part. Other than that, all happiness and love.

a/n: Well, excuse any spelling mistakes, English isn't my first language. And I tried my best to make it as much like Finnick as I could, but this is my first fic of his lol. Anyway, I hope you like it and enjoy <3

Words: 1.8k

Finnick remembers the first time he saw you. He was eight and you were only six. Your father had gone to see his for some reason Finnick can't remember — not least because he hadn't been paying attention to them. What he does remember is you glaring at him. It made him laugh, which only deepened your frown.

He imagines it was because you didn't like him very much at the time. He didn’t blame you. With your older brother constantly saying that no boy was any good, it was hard to be friends with anyone he was always badmouthing. Finnick didn’t blame your brother either — in a world like theirs, any protection, even unnecessary, was better than none. Still, nothing changed how cute and funny he had found you at the time. After that day, you never met in person again.

The time he considers the second was when his name was called at the reaping. He remembers your eyes glued to him; you were twelve, and he was fourteen. He could feel your pity seeping through his skin. He didn’t blame you — after all, like it or not, it was still the Hunger Games. But knowing that you were looking at him made it almost funny to him, and it was with that thought in mind that he entered the arena.

The third time was when he returned home victorious. Of course, there were lots of people congratulating him — his relieved family and everyone else — but the only thing he saw was you, walking toward him. He didn't think it was of his own volition, considering you was with your father and brother, but as soon as you approached, you wore the best, most beautiful smile he had ever seen you give. And for the first time in years, you spoke to him.

"Congratulations on winning, Finnick. I'm glad you're back... well, we're glad."

He could see the smile on your father’s face, though he couldn’t say the same for your brother. Not that he minded. So he just smiled back at you — not the smile he reserved for the Capitol, but a real smile.

"Thank you. I'm glad to see you too."

He saw you get embarrassed, and he wanted to laugh at that. But he wouldn’t — not in front of your father. Not yet.

For the rest of the day, he listened to his father talk about how much your father complained about you, because you wouldn't stop talking about Finnick. His father laughed as he ruffled his hair affectionately. And it’s not like Finnick was going to complain.

Everyone said it was normal for girls to have a little crush on boys who won at something — at least, that’s what the people he knew told him. Maybe that’s why, two months later, it was as if Finnick no longer existed to you. You were back in your own world, with your friends, without him. Not that it bothered him — not really.

The next time he really saw you, you were sixteen, and he was eighteen. He was a mentor now, and when your name was called at the reaping, he could see on your face how much you hated it. Most people didn't care or thought that a dead kid from District 4 wouldn't make much difference, since you wasn’t a Career or someone important. Finnick hated it — but he would never say so.

He also remembers how, for whatever reason, you didn't put any effort into your training. He thought it was because of what everyone thought of you as a tribute, or maybe you just didn't give a damn about dying in the arena. He didn't admit it at the time, but he had been terrified that you wouldn't make it out of the arena alive. He also remembers how surprised everyone was by your training score — including him. It was a ten. He remembers it clearly, and you didn't seem to mind.

On the day of the Games, all you did was say goodbye to your stylists. You didn't look in anyone else's direction, but he didn't blame you. If you were going to become one of the last survivors, there would come a point when you would have to kill someone. It wasn't something everyone wanted to face.

He remembers seeing you in the arena — you did well. For the first few days, you kept to yourself, hiding and trying to survive. But at some point — he can't say exactly when — things changed. Perhaps it was when the male tribute from your district was killed, or when you saw a pair of boys, just twelve years old, die.

It wasn't a change that anyone on Capitol had noticed. But Finnick knew you well enough to say that the deaths of people you barely knew had affected you. He still remembers when one of the tributes from District 4 was a twelve-year-old boy - you didn't know him, but you still went to say goodbye. You were only fourteen.

And at that very moment, you had just thrown an axe into the head of the boy from District 3 who had killed the twelve-year-olds. You hadn't thought — you had just acted. Obviously, this had a positive consequence for you in the Capitol's eyes, because a while later, you were sent food that would last for about four days.

He remembers the exact moment you won. He wanted to say he was relieved, but that wouldn't be fair to you. Until you left for District 4, you didn't say a single word to him. Perhaps because no one was looking at you with such high expectations anymore, you felt confident enough to speak.

"Do you regret killing those people to survive?"

"No."

He had to be honest; he couldn't lie. But after that, he didn't hear your voice again for the rest of the journey — you didn't even look at him. Still, when you arrived in District 4, you acted as if you were fine, as if you didn’t care.

He also remembers when you became friends. It was a good thing — a big step, considering that before, you wouldn’t even look him in the face. Now he understood why. Even though it hadn't seemed like it before, you had lots of friends. You were funny, entertaining, and you cooked extremely well. Finnick admitted that he envied your food — and he couldn’t lie about that.

He obviously remembers the following year, when the two of you were mentors. You were only seventeen, but you didn't seem bothered about directing two people toward a possible death. He saw how hard you worked not to get attached to either of the tributes, because if they didn't come back, you wouldn't feel guilty. But when Annie returned, alive and safe, he also saw you break down. You hugged her as if she were going to disappear. And he didn’t blame you for that either. Over the next year, no one ever brought up the subject of Annie becoming a mentor.

When you were nineteen, things went to another level. Once ignored, now he was kissed when no one was watching — well, that was a breakthrough. He remembers every kiss, every smile. He also remembers when you woke him up at dawn to help Annie. He didn't mind; he was spending time with you and helping a friend.

While he was making tea, if he looked over his shoulder, he could see you hugging her, whispering what sounded like a lullaby — the kind you sing to babies when they can't stop crying. He could see how much you loved and cared for Annie, and that always made him fall in love with you a little more, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

He certainly remembers the time he told you he loved you. You had just turned twenty-one. You said it back. And you held each other for the rest of the night.

He also remembers the 74th Hunger Games. He saw your relief when those two young people, madly in love — though he didn't believe in that farce — survived together. You didn’t know them, but you were obviously happy for them.

He also — sadly — remembers the Quarter Quell. When his name was called, he had imagined it would happen. But that day, once again, he saw you. Annie had been called, and before Mags could volunteer, you did. He saw you hugging Annie, comforting her as he heard her whisper "sorry," but you just smiled at her. And as you hugged, he heard you say:

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let that happen to her again."

"I know..."

He didn’t know. No — actually, he did. He just didn’t want to admit it, because admitting it meant facing the reality that this year, he’d be going into the arena with you. And he didn’t even want to think about that.

In the arena, he did everything he could to protect you, Katniss, and Peeta. He really wanted the plan to work. He believed that you would be fine if they separated. But when he woke up, you weren’t there with him. You were in the Capitol with the others. For the first time in years, he wished he had died in that arena when he was fourteen.

He felt it the moment he got you back — you weren’t really there. He spoke to you, but you didn’t listen. And if he tried to touch you, he saw you despair, screaming as if he had hurt you. And he felt that way — he felt guilty for letting the Capitol lay even a single finger on you. They told him to take it easy. He wanted to tell everyone to fuck off, but when he looked at you, he knew they were right.

At that very moment, he was keeping you company, obviously giving you space — he didn’t want you to get hurt. But when he heard you calling him, he admitted he was desperate; you hadn’t even looked him in the face for days. So probably, if you had asked him to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness, he would have — even if he didn’t need to. But he held back.

"Finnick?"

"Yes, dear? Do you need anything?"

"I'm sorry..." It came out as a whisper.

"Hey, hey, what are you apologizing for? You have nothing to apologize for."

"I..." You didn’t manage to finish before tears welled up in your eyes.

"Hey, hey, please don’t cry..." He tried his best to comfort you without having to touch you. But before he could decide what to do, you hugged him — a little hesitantly, but you hugged him. And at that moment, he collapsed. He shouldn’t have cried — not when you were in such a fragile moment — but he couldn’t help it.

For a moment in his life, he had thought he had lost you, that he would never see you again. And at that moment, he decided he would never let go of you — not with the possibility of losing you again. He would never let that happen. He would always see you now.

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lyrakanefanaticwriting · 2 months ago

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i got this request on my other account and figured i’d do it since it seems like it’d be a funny fic!!

i want to give credits to @alwaysthefangirl as i based a lot of my ideas of “lyra being stubborn and not wanting help when shes sick” around her fic, and seriously ive reread that one countless amounts of times omg. anyway thank you for being the amazing writer that you are and inspiring me to write this with your own fic. i dont think i would have been able to write this so quickly if it werent for your fic that seriously helped me write this one so thank you!!! <33

A Sick and Stubborn Lyra

(could you tell that i couldn’t think of a title? 😜)

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•

Lyra knew she was sick. She knew it the other day when her entire body was feverishly burning up and she couldn’t evade the constant dizzy spells, and she knew it now as she felt the same way—no, worse.

She thought that sleep might heal her, and she’d done a good enough job at hiding it from Grayson, but it was no use. She had classes, classes she couldn’t risk missing as she’d just added an extra one to her schedule, and despite her feverish state, had to be present for them. No matter how dry and aching her throat felt, or how her head was heating up astronomically.

Crawling out of her sheets as quietly as possible, Lyra cast her gaze to the blonde sleeping peacefully beside her. Grayson. He looked so beautiful while he slept, so at peace and calm.

Lyra reminded herself that she had a mission that Grayson couldn’t distract her from: get ready and out of the house while Grayson’s asleep/getting ready so he doesn’t see the state she’s in.

Fully getting out of bed, Lyra softly walked over to her walk in closet, where she clicked the door behind her quietly and put on her clothes as softly as possible. Then she tip-toed past a, thankfully, still asleep Grayson towards her bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and did her skin care for the day. Every movement sent her head spinning and made her body ache, and once Lyra spat out her toothpaste, she collapsed onto the mat in her bathroom and tried her best to breathe. She gave herself only a minute of sitting on the floor and trying not to pass out, before getting up, not bothering with make up, and walking out the bathroom.

She knew she was being sloppy. She no longer cared about being quiet; all that mattered to her was getting out of the house without fainting or throwing up first.

With her teeth clattering in her mouth and sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, Lyra grabbed her car keys with slow, aching movements, and was just about to stumble out the door when she heard a low rumble behind her.

“Lyra?” Came Grayson’s sleep riddled voice. Shit.

Lyra didn’t dare turn around, as if she did, he would see how sick she is and make her stay home. Not today, Grayson. Thought Lyra through clenched teeth as she tried not to shiver.

“I’m about to leave, Gray, but I’ll call you at lunch.” Lyra said, before freezing once she realized how terrible her voice was.

It visibly sounded scratched and nasally, and she didn’t sound well in the slightest. She froze as she heard Grayson’s steps behind her.

“Wait, Lyra.” Grayson ordered. Lyra would have spit back a retort if she wasn’t in her current state. Pulling her forward by the waist, Grayson turned her around, and she immediately saw surprise cross his features. Lyra furrowed her brows.

“I’m fine. Let me go.” Lyra ordered, hoping her (regretfully) sharp tone would ward him off.

But nothing really warded off Grayson Hawthorne.

Grayson placed his hands on her shoulders, his bare chest breathing in and out slowly, and he seemed to be looking over her, seeing how bad of a state she was in.

“You’re not going to your classes like this.” Grayson told her. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“I’m fine.” Lyra stubbornly told him, before sneezing, trying to take a step back, and stumbling to the ground. The sudden movement left her head reeling, and her body would be aching along with that if it weren’t for Grayson, who caught her in his arms.

“Breathe, sweetheart. I’m right here.” he told her softly, lips pressing onto her neck. Lyra went limp at the sudden affection, growing dizzier. She shuddered in his arms, and he suddenly picked her up, carrying her bridal style to their room.

“Breathe.”

Lyra awoke from her sleep a couple hours later, tangled in sheets with her hair splayed out on the pillow. Lyra lifted her head up—and then immediately regretted it. Her head was hit with a terribly dizzying feeling, and it was burning up wildly. Lyra slouched back down.

Searching the room, she tried to look for Grayson, but all she could see was his laptop and notes splayed on the ground beside her bed. Their room didn’t have a desk, aside from Lyra’s vanity, and Grayson’s office was in the other room. Lyra’s heart warmed once she realized he’d worked on the floor to keep an eye on her.

Looking towards the bathroom and seeing that the light was on, she realized that Grayson was inside. Lyra pulled herself up slowly, her body screaming at her all the while to lay back down, and sat up. She didn’t want to do anything, but she knew she had to.

“Tea,” she could remember her mother telling her as a child whenever she get sick, “is a remedy for all ills. Now drink!”

Granted, tea was never Lyra’s favourite, but tough times called for tough measures.

Peeling off her sheets with aching movements, Lyra ignored the thumping sound in her head and got up, shaking terribly. Pressing her freezing hands to her burning forehead, Lyra began to walk to the kitchen, pushing down the dizzying feeling the best she could.

Once she got to the kitchen, she bent down shakily towards the cabinet, opened it up, took out the kettle—and that’s about as far as she got.

Well, as far as she got before she heard her name.

The tone of which Grayson said Lyra was clearly not happy. Lyra winced as she stood back up, and saw Grayson come into the kitchen with accusing eyes. He was all dressed, clad in a suit with his hair fixed, and Lyra couldn’t deny that he looked good. So good that she forgot that he was currently staring at her as if she had just learned to walk.

“What are you doing up?” He accused, striding up to her and reaching to take the kettle from her hands. Lyra moved her hands away, hiding the kettle behind her and away from his reach.

“Making tea.” she said stubbornly, coughing all the while. Grayson’s eyes were concerned as he studied her, moving hair from her face to really look at her.

“Sweetheart, you aren’t well. Please go back to bed.” he told her softly. Lyra only rolled her eyes.

“I’m fiiiiiine.” she said, breathing hard and sniffing. Words became harder to say when she was sick. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed, and a muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I’ll carry you.” he warned. Lyra rolled her eyes again, waved him away with his hand.

“No. Go work.” she told him. Grayson sighed before lifting her into his arms the same way he had earlier with ease. Lyra squirmed, which only tightened the grip he had on her.

“Hey.” Lyra said, trying to make her tone as threatening as possible, even though her voice was nasally and scratched. Grayson looked at her and pressed a kiss to her forehead before placing her in bed.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Apparently, I’ll be right back meant I’ll get every pill and remedy there is and force it down your throat. So far, she’d taken 4 pills, drank 2 cups of tea, had a popsicle for her throat, and was now getting her temperature checked by Grayson all while she laid in bed with a cold rag on her head like a sick peasant.

“102°F. Not good.” Grayson tutted, putting the thermometer down and fixing her with a concerned look. That’s all he was doing today: finishing up some documents, fretting over her, and fixing her with concerned puppy-dog stares.

Well, she liked the stares, but the fretting could be taken down a notch.

“Can’t I get up?” Lyra asked. Grayson gave her an unimpressed look.

“You’ve asked me that 4 times in the past hour and each time I told you no. What makes you think now you’ll get a different answer?” he replied. Lyra sighed.

“At least let me walk around the walk in closet. It has a stool if I get tired.” Lyra reasoned. She didn’t have much of a desire to walk around her closet, but laying down and doing nothing was much worse. Grayson gave her a look.

“What do you need that’s in that closet?” he asked her. An innuendo popped into her mind at the same time as an actual answer. Her choice on which of the two to say was obvious.

“If I can’t convince you to let me get up, I think my red thong that I keep in there can.” Lyra retorted simply, giving a half shrug and grinning despite her state. Grayson tried to look unimpressed, but she saw how his cheeks reddened slightly. Win for me, Lyra thought giddily.

Lyra realized then that her only entertainment in this jail cell that was her bed was riling up Grayson. And so she took every opportunity to.

“Grayson, my blankets are bothering me.” Lyra complained.

“Then take them off.” he replied simply from where he was sitting on the floor, talking his gaze away from his papers to look at her. Lyra peeled her blankets off her body, before slyly smiling.

“Grayson, my pants are bothering me.”

Every time she told him sly innuendos, he would act unaffected and continue doing what he was doing, aside from a few telltale signs that he was actually affected, like him clearing his throat, or his cheeks reddening, or, her personal favourite, his pupils dilating. After a few of those, her entertainment (Grayson) was no longer being entertaining. Every suggestive remark was becoming ignored, or he would just switch the topic. Now Lyra was irrevocably bored again.

Picking at her nails as she laid in bed, Lyra sighed. Then she sighed again. Sighing once more, she glanced down at Grayson who was still sitting next to her bed while working on his laptop, and wasn’t saying a word. Lyra huffed. She might as well sleep, if she had nothing else to do.

Turning to her side and closing her eyes, Lyra started to feel herself finally drifting to sleep.

She awoke a few hours later, drowsy, but overall feeling much better compared to earlier. It was now 6 PM, and Lyra doubted that she would be able to sleep tonight with all the napping she’d been doing.

Sitting up, she noticed that although her head was still hot, the aching feeling like somebody had just ran over her brain was gone. She felt less dizzy, too. The symptoms that had stopped her from getting up and generally being mobile earlier were gone. And, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, it was because of Grayson.

Lyra felt a little bit guilty then. She had spent the whole day trying to avoid his help, when without him she would probably be feeling even worse by now.

She looked to her side and realized that Grayson wasn’t there. Neither was his laptop or his papers. He must have switched to his office, Lyra thought. Then she pulled off her covers and got up. She still had small chills, and so she threw on one of Grayson’s Harvard sweaters, before stalking to his office. She used to knock when they first moved in, but Lyra never does it now.

Opening the door, Lyra quietly walked in, and saw Grayson working at his desk. Once he heard the door open, he turned to her, smiling that faint, beautiful smile of his that she’s so familiar with.

“I’m sorry I left the room. I had an online meeting to attend and I didn’t want to wake you up.” he explained. Lyra paused. He was apologizing to her? She was the one who owed him an apology.

Without a word, Lyra walked over to him and sat on his lap. He was surprised, but only slightly. Lyra usually liked to sit on his lap while he did work.

Turning around to make herself comfortable, Lyra rested her head on his shoulder while her legs were halfway tucked on his lap. Grayson smiled softly again, placing a hand on her thigh while the other was on his laptop. Still, his eyes were on her.

“Are you feeling better sweetheart?” he asked her, his voice gentle. Lyra nodded, and the guilt she felt then from his concern was tremendous.

“I’m sorry.” she said. Grayson raised a brow as his expressions grew curious and concerned.

“What for?” he asked her. Lyra bit her lip.

“For trying to avoid your help all day. I was acting stubbornly but I was too sick and stupid to realize.” Lyra admitted, looking away. Grayson froze, before taking her head in his hands.

“Don’t say that. Don’t say anything like that. You weren’t at all stupid, Lyra.” he told her, his eyes deep with emotion and oh so beautiful as he gazed into hers. “I know you can be stubborn. And every stubborn act of yours makes me love you more and more.” Lyra snorted, pulling her gaze away.

“Okay, I know you love me, but you don’t have to lie.” she said, humour tinging her expressions. Grayson’s, on the other hand, were dead serious.

“I’m not lying, Lyra. I love how stubborn you are because I love the fact that you are so set on your goals, and on your choices. You’re strong and determined, Lyra, and that comes with your stubbornness today.” he told her, resting his forehead on yours. “I wish I had even half as much of your perseverance. I always will.” Lyra couldn’t stop her smile from coming. He always saw her better than she saw himself.

“Grayson…” Was all Lyra said and all she could say before pressing a soft, gentle kiss onto his lips. Then she sprung back, groaning.

“Shit, sorry Grayson, I forgot I was sick-“ Lyra said, before she was cut off by Grayson pressing his lips to hers and giving her a deep and passionate kiss. Lyra returned it, and the two continued the kiss, pressing and pulling before finally separating. Grayson smiled at her.

“I would get sick a million times over if it meant being able to kiss you.” He told her softly. Lyra smiled sheepishly.

“I wouldn’t say that if I were you. This sickness was terrible enough as it is. Having it a million times more would be hell.” Lyra said, sighing. Grayson’s smile widened slightly, and he moved her off his lap to one of his thighs, both his hands firmly gripping her waist. Lyra’s cheeks reddened slightly.

“Ah, so now you admit you were sick?” Grayson teased, cockiness clear in his voice. Lyra rolled her eyes, and was about to respond when a notification suddenly went off on Grayson’s laptop. Lyra turned her head and saw an email pop up. He made an irritated noise in the base of his throat, but Lyra only laughed.

“Okay, I guess I should be letting you work now after you took care of me the whole day.” Lyra said. She was just getting up when Grayson pulled her back down on his thigh, his grip on her waist still firm.

“I thought you said there was another way of convincing me to let you get up?” Grayson reminded her. “A way that involved… something from our closet?”

His voice was deep, and, at the moment, a bit hoarse. Grayson also had a teasing look on his face with eyes that were currently thunder cloud dark. Lyra didn’t even know why, as her mind drew a blank.

Then, shock and a burning feeling spread across her features.

And Grayson’s eyes, that were staring much more now, darkened further.

————————————————————————

GRAYSON YA LITTLE FREAK

hope u guys enjoyed this!! it was fun to write ESP lyras innuendos hehe those were funny

#fanfic #lyra x grayson fic #lyra x grayson #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #grayson hawthorne #the grandest game #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #the brothers hawthorne #fanfiction #lyrason

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ann-lol · 1 month ago

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I honestly never understood y/n, especially in fanfics.

When I get SO obsessed with a character I just genuinely want them to get a love interest so I can see them being all lovey dovey with their partner. I want to read fanfics of this couple, as I squeal like a banshee and roll around the floor giving my parents every reason to lock me up in an asylum-

But apparently a lot of people like to make themselves the love interest, which I find both confusing and interesting.

Maybe my brain isn’t advanced enough to put myself in a story like that or maybe I just love shipping people too much but I could never do that, even if I tried 🥲

#also y/n never really acts like me LOL #I am not y/n and y/n is not me #kotlc #kotlc fandom #keeper of the lost cities #keefe sencen #the inheritance games #thg series #thg #xander hawthorne #y/n #fanfics #kotlc ships #thg ships #book ships #fandom ships #shatter me #ann thoughts

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wish-i-were-heather · 9 months ago

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A FOOL FOR YOU PT 4⤵ GRAYSON HAWTHORNE X READER

ABOUT: 2642 words, no use of y/n (part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5)

STORY: well, y'know. you can't ignore a 911 text from a hawthorne

WARNINGS: none really, reader does struggle to swim tho and freaks out a little

TAGS: @littlemissmentallyunstable @gretag13 @lanterns-and-daydreams @whatsamongus @alwaysthefangirl @zuzanna-jadw1ga @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @low-caloriesmonsterultra @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @jimcarreyfann42 @ravishinglyliving @maybxlle - lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist!

A/N: EEK I LOVED WRITING THIS. i didn't describe the reader's swimsuit because i don't know what everyone is comfortable with so i let you kinda imagine it however u want! i'm not sure how many more parts i can get out of this idea, there'll definitely be at least one more lmk what u think tho

He said please.

Grayson didn’t lack manners. It’s not that he didn’t know how to say please and thank you. But he also wasn’t the kind of person to throw around a plea lightly. Grayson Hawthorne was, well, a Hawthorne. The name itself was a demand, not requiring a please. But he’d felt the need to say please to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it.

Or maybe you were still in denial, like Avery said you were.

The texts came in at eight at night, too, which only raised more questions in your mind. If he wanted to talk to you, why hadn’t he just found you? Or simply texted you to meet somewhere? You didn’t understand why he’d felt the need to use the 911; you would’ve come if he’d just told you to go to the pool.

Hawthornes did tend to have a flare for dramatics, you supposed.

You had no idea why Grayson wanted you to meet him at the pool. He was a swimmer, sure, but that was very much his personal time. Grayson didn’t often appreciate people watching or joining him in the pool. But, you figured there was a chance he expected you to.

So you found yourself at her door again. Despite the faint conversation you could hear from inside, you knocked.

Avery took longer than last time to open the door. “What’s up?” She asked.

“Hey. Uh, do you have a swimsuit I could borrow?”

She frowned slightly, confused. “I mean I do, yeah, but why-”

You didn’t even have to say anything. You just showed her your phone screen with the text messages. Her eyes widened as she read them and she immediately opened the door wider for you. “Get the hell in here.”

Avery was already digging through the grand dresser. As you entered the room behind her, you noticed Jameson sitting on the floor in front of a deck of cards, giving you a curious look. “What-”

“Not now, Jamie,” Avery quickly answered. “Girl problem.”

That shut him up.

“Don’t mind him,” she told you, turning back around with a few items in hand. “We were just playing solitaire.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Together? Isn’t that a one player game?”

“His idea, not mine. Managed to turn it into a competition too, somehow,” Avery shrugged. Jameson gasped dramatically but she continued before he could speak, bringing your attention back to why you asked for help. “So, I’ve actually never worn this one before, you could keep it if you want. Or-”

“That one’s fine,” you interrupted, taking it from her. “Can I change in your bathroom?” “Oh, uh, yeah, sure I guess,” Avery answered, clearly confused as to why you were so quick to answer. “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there as soon as I can. Thanks.”

You didn’t change completely, just putting it on and putting your clothes back on over it. You didn’t plan on getting into the water, but it was worth being prepared.

As you were stepping out of the room and thanking Avery, Jameson called, “Say hi to Gray for me.”

Your head snapped back. “What?”

“Come on,” he smirked. “He’s practically the only person who uses the pool, especially at this time. So tell him I said hi.”

Shaking your head, you just ignored him. Jameson was the type of person who could read people well, so odds are he probably already knew he was right. But you didn’t want to give even more of a reaction to him than you already had.

Avery grabbed your arm though, before you left. “Hey, hey, good luck.”

You thanked her and left, just hoping Jameson wouldn’t try to watch from the window.

The cool night air hit you sharply as you stepped outside. It hadn’t been too chilly during the day, but you now found yourself wishing you were in more than just shorts and a thin hoodie.

Shivering, you made your way over to the pool. Your mind was racing the whole way there, but there wasn’t really anything else for you to be wondering. Grayson had asked for you to come to the pool, presumably either to swim with him or just because he was most comfortable there. Either way, it was pretty clear that he wanted to discuss what happened when he was drunk. But you still didn’t understand why he sent the 911.

Good thing you were on your way to finding out.

The pool deck was empty, save for a few lounge chairs. The fancy cushioned kind, the ones you would only find at a hotel. And the Hawthorne mansion, of course.

On one of the chairs were two neatly folded towels- two. So he did expect you to get in the water with him? Where was he anyway? If he’d already brought out towels, why wasn’t he-

Splash.

You’d been too caught up in your thoughts and the sound of your heart racing in your chest to realize that Grayson was, in fact, already in the pool. Swimming laps because he was Grayson Hawthorne, so of course he was swimming laps when the sun had already set and the only light in the sky was that of the stars.

Swimming had never really been your thing, so you didn’t know the exact stroke, but you would’ve been a liar if you said you weren't somewhat mesmerized. The way his arms went up and out, the way his fingers glided along the surface before entering the water once again. His legs kicked together, the movement fast and almost indiscernible under the blue of surrounding him.

Grayson came up for air so quickly you couldn’t even make out his face, but your eyes caught on the way his hair flicked up with his head. It was certainly a skill, and he managed it so gracefully. You struggled to look away.

Thankfully, you were pulled out of your stare when he suddenly reached the wall nearest to you. Grayson’s hands touched the edge of the pool in perfect sync. You could see the red in his face, the tire he was giving himself from swimming. You wondered how long he’d been there before you found him.

Grayson met your eyes with a tired smile as he caught his breath. “You came.”

“You said 911,” you explained, sitting on the edge of the chair where he’d set the towels. “I figured it was pretty important.”

“Yes, I did.” He nodded. “We do only get one of those a year, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that to any of my brothers.”

“Got it.”

He was avoiding the elephant in the room.

“Would you like to join me?”

You stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused,” he said. “Would you like to join me?”

Was he really just going to ignore the fact that he’d sent you such an urgent message? A 911 could’ve meant he was dying, for all you knew when you’d first received it. And what, it was because he wanted to go for a swim with you? There was more he wasn’t saying and you just wanted to yell at him to spit it out.

Instead, you responded calmly.

“Join you in the pool?”

Grayson looked you up and down and shook his head. “I suppose you can’t really, not without proper swimwear.”

You got in the pool in a suit when you were drunk, you didn’t say.

“I have a bathing suit on under this,” you explained. “I just… why do I need to get in the water? Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?”

He took a deep breath.

“I’ve decided I owe you an apology. For what happened.” You knew immediately what he was referring to. “I was reckless and foolish and unintentionally put the burden of myself onto you. It would have been easier for you to just leave me be, but you dealt with my mess. I appreciate that.”

The silence that followed was only interrupted by the gentle lapping of the pool.

“See why I figured you should get in?” He asked. “We’d be at an even level. Better suited for such a conversation.”

“Or you could just get out,” you offered.

“Please?”

That word again.

Grayson Hawthorne knew what he was doing.

“Fine,” you groaned, but really only half annoyed. You turned around as you began to take off the layers above the swimsuit, watching him in the corner of your eye as he looked away respectfully.

The cold hit you even harder now that you had removed your hoodie, and you hoped that the pool was well heated.

“Okay, okay.” You began walking over to the edge of the pool where Grayson was. When his eyes found you, he stared for a little longer than normal before answering.

“You’re nervous,” he observed. “Can you swim?”

You shrugged, taking another step closer. “I know how to stop myself from drowning.”

Grayson moved out of your way and you sat on the edge of the pool with your feet getting wet. It was heated, thankfully. Comfortably so. No wonder he loved to come here at night.

He was watching you silently. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it was killing you. Not that anyone could ever tell what Grayson Hawthorne hid behind those piercing eyes, but yet another question amidst everything that had happened that week was too much.

Of course he’s a mystery, he’s a Hawthorne.

Before you could overthink it even further, you got in.

The warmth of the water enveloped you, contrasting greatly with the chill of the night air. You were holding onto the wall, not planning on letting go because your swimming skills were just barely above that of a child starting swim lessons. But Grayson’s intense gaze kept your heart racing.

He swam towards you, grabbing onto the wall a little closer but still leaving a respectful distance between you. “Do you know why I sent the 911?”

“No,” you admitted. “It scared me.”

“I apologize for that. I panicked.”

You hadn’t expected that confession from him.

“You panicked?”

He nodded slowly. “I was afraid you’d think less of me after how I acted. You haven’t spoken to me in days, so I wasn’t sure you’d come otherwise.” The vulnerability in his voice was tangible.

“It’s not that I’ve been trying to avoid you, Grayson,” you explained. “I just… I mean, you haven’t spoken to me either.”

“I thanked you, I thought we were past what happened. I didn’t think we needed to talk about it.”

“You thanked me and then flirted and walked away.”

Grayson raised an eyebrow. “Did I?”

“You know very well what you did,” you said, trying to hide the blush on your face.

He swam a little closer. His voice dropped to the same sincere tone it had adopted back when he was drunk. When you’d told him to be careful and he’d cupped your face. When he said he’d never hurt you, never.

“Perhaps I do. But that doesn’t change the fact that I burdened you with my drunk self.”

“You’re not a burden, Grayson,” you told him, also pushing yourself closer to him along the wall. “It was no problem, really. Just a little entertaining.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t tell if it was genuine or bitter.

The way he was looking at you was making you feel something. Something you couldn’t name but… didn’t quite hate. You started to move yourself a little closer to him until-

Splash.

Your hand slipped off the edge of the pool, accidentally sending you back. Not exceptionally far or deep into the pool, but enough to make you panic. You could keep yourself afloat, sure, but not when you were suddenly pushed away from the only solid thing keeping your head above water.

But before you could fully let the panic set in, a strong arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you upwards.

The sensation of being lifted was disorienting. You were overwhelmed by the sudden rush of water and movement, then the lack of water as your head reached the surface again. Even if you’d barely been below the water for a few seconds, you found yourself gasping for air.

Grayson’s arm around you was the only steady thing in the chaos.

“Hey, hey” Grayson spoke, and it took a moment for your startled mind to process the words. “You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took a moment for your breathing to calm down, but you helped yourself by rationalizing it; you’d been under the water for maybe five seconds, there was no need to panic so much.

The shock had just gotten you.

His voice broke through again, focusing your vision and hearing on him. “Just breathe, in and out. Nice and slow, just like that.”

You followed his instructions, taking deep breaths. Your panic began to fade, and you became painfully aware of how close he now was to you, the proximity at which he held you.

Grayson didn’t let go as you calmed down, simply keeping you tucked protectively in his arm as if the water was threatening you. He used his free hand to reach up and brush a wet strand of hair from your face behind your ear. The gesture was so gentle, so careful, that you felt your heart flutter.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I think so. Thank you.”

He only nodded in return, his usually sharp gray eyes beginning to soften as he stared down at you. He didn’t move his hand away after moving the hair out of your face. It stayed there, lingering around your ear, until he decided to move down, cupping your face.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the first time that shirtless Grayson Hawthorne was holding your face in his large hands and looking at you in a way that was more than an annoyed glance.

But it felt different this time. More intense, more real.

He wasn’t drunk, not hungover; there was no doubt in your mind that he really meant everything. His eyes were still locked on yours with an emotion that you couldn’t quite place, yet somehow felt deep within your core.

He leaned forward, so close to you that your foreheads were almost touching. His eyes fluttered shut and you realized what was happening only after you felt the words he whispered against your lips-

“I’m sorry.”

Grayson closed the small gap between you, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like he was giving you the chance to pull away or tell him to stop. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into the kiss, the arm around you tightened.

Your hands moved on their own, both sliding their way up to rest on his chest. He responded to your touch with a low hum that made you shiver despite the heated pool.

His arm moved up to the back of your head, pushing you impossibly closer to him. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, like he was trying to express every emotion he’d been hiding for the past week. It was overwhelming, and for a moment nothing existed outside of you and Grayson Davenport Hawthorne.

When he pulled back, you kept your eyes closed. Grayson placed a small kiss on your forehead before resting it against his own. You were so close now, much closer than before, but that didn’t matter anymore.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while now,” he admitted softly.

“Me too, Grayson,” you grinned. “Me too.”

When he kissed you again, he tasted like those stupid cherries he loved and felt like the end of the world.

#grayson hawthorne #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson x reader #the inheritance games #the grandest game #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #tig #tig fanfic #tgg #mightier than your sword𓂃🖋

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7975348473 · 1 month ago

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can you write a lyrason fic where grayson is jealous of lyras ex? preferably before they start dating. ❤️

Grayson Is Jealous.

Today was another normal day in the Hawthorne household.

Everyone had gathered around in order to discuss the next Annual Game night— which would be the third of the week, but you can’t do much once Xander insists.

“LETS PLAY DRINK OR DARE AGAIN!!” Demanded Xander.

Lyra considered the demand, she was in charge of choosing which games would be included in this game night. Apparently, it was a ‘Benefit of becoming a soon-to-be-sister-in-law’.

“Xander. The last time we played Drink or Dare, you made Avery scream Hamlet at the top of her lungs at 12am, made Libby an aspiring arsonist and almost made Max a boy.” Lyra deadpanned.

Nash chuckled while Jameson completely lost it. Grayson rolled his eyes as a ghost of a smile appeared on his face.

“I did no such thing, they had the choice to drink after all.” Xander replied sending a pointed glance towards the three in question.

Avery, who was used to the bull shit of the Hawthorne brothers, completely ignored Xander.

“Don’t do it, Lyra. You know the consequences of saying yes to a Drink or Dare game.” Avery warned her.

Lyra held back the urge to laugh. She was about to answer when her phone rang.

The room went silent as she checked who in their right mind would call her at 9 in the morning. Everyone knew she wasn’t a morning person.

Lyra was surprised to see a number on the screen. Grayson leaned over and raised a brow in question, seeing just the number.

She picked up, “Hello?”

A muffled voice came from the other side of the line, “Hello? Is this Lyra?” He sounded like a male.

Lyra paused for a second, she knew that voice. But she couldn’t quite put her finger on whose it was.

“Uh— yes. Who is this?” She asked, mildly embarrassed at not being able to recognise the person.

“… Lyra— you seriously don’t recognise me?” The other person asked sounding genuinely hurt.

Lyra paused again, wracking her brain cells cause she was damn sure she knew this person. And then it clicked.

“HOLY SHIT— HARRY????” Lyra screamed, quite literally springing up, off of her seat on the sofa.

Her embarrassing past began to catch up to her the moment she said Harry’s name out loud.

Harry. Harry Smith. Her childhood friend and also her… first boyfriend.

Lyra suddenly felt the need to crawl out of her skin, dig up a ditch in the floor and die.

Harry and Lyra were friends in the past. They were raised in the same neighbourhood and talked a fair amount of times.

She liked to dance and was fairly good looking, he also liked to dance and thought she looked pretty. So he asked her out. And she said yes. That’s it. No real reason. Just cuz.

Lyra mentally screamed into the abyss. I mean— they were middle schoolers. Can you blame them? Lyra had thought that maybe dating would get her mind off… things for a while.

She had been wrong. So they broke it off literally two days later. No hugs, no kisses, just one failed date.

Lyra realised that everybody was staring at her now. She nervously signalled for them to give her a minute and walked out to the balcony.

She heard Harry laughing on the other side of the line.

“Yes. It’s me. Thank god— I thought you might have Alzheimer's or something.” He joked. Lyra let out a forced laugh.

She didn’t hate Harry. They had continued being friends after their little ‘dating phase’ but eventually grew apart when Lyra moved away from Miles End.

This is bloody awkward. She thought to herself. She hated making conversation. It made her feel like she wasn’t herself again.

Lyra took a deep breath, “Anyways, what’s up? It’s been a while.” Said Lyra, finally.

Harry huffed, “I know right. College was crazy. I thought about contacting you a few times but I didn’t really know how to reach out to you.”

Lyra gave a non committed ‘hmm’.

There shared a few moments of awkward silence and Lyra contemplated jumping off the balcony. She scratched the thought though once she realised that the balcony itself wasn’t very high off the main ground.

I’d have to jump like— twice to die from here.

“Well, my stupid ass finally realised I could just ask your parents for you phone number. They were ecstatic.” He laughed.

Lyra gave a small smile at the mention of her parents, “I swear, they think I have no friends.” She said, rolling her eyes.

“Well, can you blame them? You were a loner.” He said, matter of factly. She hated that he was right.

“Gee, did you call me to make fun of me?” Lyra asked, jokingly.

And so they continued, catching up with one another for what felt like forever. Lyra didn’t exactly enjoy the entire thing. The Lyra Kane Harry had known wasn’t actually her.

It was the facade she had on for everyone as to seem alright. Like a normal little girl. She couldn’t stand it anymore. Not after everything. Not after Grayson.

Lyra turned around to see Max and Avery waiting for her on the other side of the balcony door with a questioning look. She gave them both a smile.

“Anyways, we should really meet up again— it’s been like— forever since we last met each other .” Said Harry, as enthusiastic as ever.

Oh hell no. Was Lyra’s immediate thought. She wasn’t ready to meet everyone from her past just yet. She needed time. To heal. To be herself again with no room for doubt.

“Haha, yeah. I’ll consider when I can come over to Miles End.” She replied.

Lyra said her goodbyes and hung up, facing her two, extremely nosy friends. She could hear the others chatting away in the ‘conference room’.

“Anddddd who is this Harry?” Asked Max, with an intrigued expression. Oh the gossip queen she was.

“Don’t ask.” Said Lyra, visibly exasperated. This only interested the two girls more.

“An old neighbour?” Suggested Avery. Lyra shook her head.

“An old friend?” Tried Max. Lyra shook her head again.

“An.. acquaintance?” Said Avery. Lyra gave her a look.

“Oh! An old dance buddy?” Asked Max, not taking the hint, something she had picked up from her boyfriend.

Lyra considered the term ‘an old dance buddy.’ Sure. They had danced together before.

“Yeah— something like that.” Lyra replied.

Avery was giving Lyra an assessing look while Max’s eyes lit up, “Oh no honey, there is more to the faxing story. Something good.” Max said ever so dramatically.

Lyra made the mistake of shooting her a nervous look. Trying to get her to drop it. And she saw the moment it clicked for the two best friends.

Avery looked absolutely floored, “No way.” She said.

But it wasn’t Avery that Lyra was worried about. She turned to Max, “Max. Listen to me.”

Max opened her mouth. Avery turned to her best friend, “Calm down Max.”

“I am calm. Totally. Just— let me just make sure my assumption is correct,” Max turned to Lyra, “Is he your.. ex?” She asked.

Avery looked over to Lyra, anticipation visible in both of their eyes.

Lyra sighed in defeat, “First boyfriend as well as my only ex. It’s not what you think—”

“EXCUSE ME— FIRST BOYFRIEND???” Avery and Max screamed at the exact same time. Lyra smacked a hand to her forehead. Fuck. This was going to be complicated.

The conference room went silent and Lyra felt her embarrassment as a physical thing. God forbid a girl try to prevent a simplistic thing from turning into a dramatic disaster.

Lyra gave them both a look. Avery sent her an apologetic smile while Max just looked gobsmacked. Lyra didn’t know whether it was normal to want to giggle in this kind of a situation.

The three girls walked back into the ‘conference room’. Lyra prayed all the while that maybe, just maybe, they all shut up for another reason.

Maybe Nash got his younger brothers to finally listen to him. Or Xander managed to duct tape everyones mouth shut.

But the moment the door opened and she saw everyone stare on at her, she knew her prayers were pointless. She sighed.

“It isn’t what you think.” Lyra said, trying to calm everyone’s curiosity. She was miserably failing.

Lyra glanced over at Grayson to see how he felt about the entire situation. In all honesty, if Grayson were to hide any of his previous relationships from her, she would be upset.

But Lyra hadn’t tried to hide it. She had just… forgotten?

Thankfully, Grayson looked fine, he was just staring at her, expecting an explanation.

“We were childhood friends and middle schoolers. We gave it a shot just for the funzies, it took us two days to realise that dating was not our thing. That’s all.” She explained, taking her seat on the sofa next to Grayson again.

“That’s alllll?~~~” Asked Thea, who finally decided to stop scrolling Instagram and look up from her phone. Lyra sent her a livid glare.

Soon after, everyone fell back into flow again. Lyra looked over at her boyfriend, “Gray?” She asked, knowing fully well that Grayson would understand the question.

Grayson looked at her and smiled, “It’s fine, Lyra. If he’s a childhood friend, you can talk to him. I won’t take away your freedom.” Lyra gave him a small smile and nuzzled closer to him.

It only took her a few moments to realise that, no. Grayson was not alright with what had went down.

He had stopped talking completely, he wore no expression— which was his go to poker face when he wanted to hide his feelings, his eye brows were slightly furrowed and he was zoning out.

No. He was not okay.

The conversation ended swiftly as everyone agreed upon the games of Drink or Dare and Strip Bowling. Classics.

When Lyra and Grayson finally reached their shared bedroom in the huge ass Hawthorne mansion, Lyra spoke up.

“Gray.” A demand. Look at me.

Grayson did just that. “I’m fine Lyra. You can do whatever you want.” He replied, nonchalantly. A little too nonchalantly.

“Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. Do you seriously think that hiding things from me will do you any good?” She questioned with a singular raised brow. He didn’t answer.

“Especially when it’s about me?” She pried. Grayson sighed.

Lyra closed the distance between them and took both of Grayson’s hands in her own, “Talk to me when you need to, Gray.” She said.

Grayson held her gaze, “… I’m not…” he took a second, “especially fond of this new figure.” He managed. Lyra blinked once, then she blinked again.

And then she burst out laughing. Grayson raised a brow at her but his smile gave him away.

“And what are you laughing at Ms. Kane?” He asked, amusement evident in his voice.

“eSpECiALlY fONd Of tHiS nEW fIGurE??” She managed in between gigggles. Grayson’s smile widened.

“It’s the truth.” He huffed. “Just.., simplified.”

Lyra finally composed herself, “and if I ask for the non-simplified version?”

Grayson looked at her for a moment.

“I don’t want him around you. I don’t like you talking to him. I might want to snap his neck.” He deadpanned. Lyra fell into a fit of giggles again and this time Grayson joined her.

Lyra would never get used to his honey-coated laughs.

“That’s a bit much, don’t you think, asshole?” She asked, a huge smile still plastered across her face.

Grayson turned towards the bathroom door, prepared to take a shower, “Not at all.”

Lyra laughed again as Grayson picked up his towel. Just then, Lyra’s phone rang once more.

Lyra grabbed it and read the display name before showing it to Grayson.

Harry.

Grayson made a face and it took everything in Lyra not to break down laughing again. She picked up, maintaining eye contact with her boyfriend.

“Hello?” She said.

“Lyra! Hi.” Harry replied, seemingly walking somewhere.

Lyra turned to walk out the door not wanting to disturb Grayson, “You called agai—”

She was cut off by Grayson suddenly grabbing her wrist. She whipped her head around but Grayson simply led her over to the bed. He plopped himself down, pulled Lyra towards him and kept her in his embrace.

Lyra went mute. She suddenly felt the need to hang up her phone—or break it, whichever one was faster, and kiss the boy who was currently resting his face against her stomach.

Grayson looked up at her and urged her to go on. Lyra put the phone on speaker, “H-hello—” she asked, her voice sounding squeaky and flustered.

She felt Grayson smirk against her and she wanted to smack him on the head for it.

“Lyra? You ok? Where’d you go all of a sudden?” Harry asked, Lyra felt Grayson frown upon listening to Harry’s voice and she held back a giggle.

“Sorry. There was— something. I— YOU NEEDED SOMETHING??” She asked or screamed. Or something in between, she didn’t know. Grayson did that to her.

Harry paused for a moment, “Uh— yeah, Right! So I met your mom on accident right after we hung up.”

“Mhm.” Lyra said, trying to focus on Harry’s words instead of the man who had her in between his legs and held onto her for dear life.

“Andd we were discussing things. She was surprised to know that we already talked since apparently, a certain somebody doesn’t pick up their moms phone.” Lyra winced. That was true. She needed some space for a while.

“Aha— guilty as charged your honour.” She replied. Harry chuckled.

“Honestly, Lyra, she’s so worried about you— you really should come by.” Harry said. Lyra replied with a ‘hmm’. Lyra could swear she heard Grayson murmur “Desperate bastard.”

“Anyways, she told me to tell you to pick up her phone calls and come over since your vacations have started.” Harry said.

“Uhhh, yeah sure, I’ll have to check with my people first.” Lyra said trying to ignore the fact that her, suddenly clingy Hawthorne, nuzzled closer at the ‘my people’ part.

“Mmk, you do that. What are you doing at university for vacations anyways? Don’t tell me you’re studying.” Harry said, adding a sigh. Lyra looked down at Grayson to se him making a face the screamed “does this man ever shut up?” She coughed to cover her laugh.

Now how was Lyra supposed to tell Harry that she practically jumped at the chance to spend a few months with Grayson right after her college semester was over?

“Ah— well, I’ve been hanging out with my friends and—” Lyra didn’t get a chance to complete her sentence.

“Boyfriend.” Grayson finished, seemingly satisfied with hugging her for now. She tried not to acknowledge the fact that she immediately missed his embrace. She failed.

Silence. “What?” Said Harry, finally.

Lyra was about to sit down next to Grayson so that he could talk but Grayson just pulled her down onto his lap and Lyra ascended for a second.

Lyra looked to him, knowing fully well how red she must have been by now. Grayson simply signalled for her to continue.

“I— nothing, I’ve just been hanging out with my people.” She said, the butterflies reaching her head. Lyra had officially lost the ability to form coherent sentences without stuttering.

Obviously, she smacked Grayson’s arm as a result. Grayson chuckled, not loosening his hold on her.

“Uh huh.” Said Harry, sounding sceptical. Grayson murmured something along the lines of “what’s he so suspicious for?” and Lyra couldn’t help but giggle.

“Oh! Your mom says that she’s happy you’re rekindling your old relationships.” Said Harry, ignoring Lyra’s odd behaviour.

“Friendships.” Grayson corrected. Lyra laughed.

“.. Lyra are you okay?” Harry sounded genuinely concerned.

“Y-yes I’m fine— sorry what?” She said, suppressing her laughter as Grayson pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“… Um— is this a bad time?” He asked.

“Yes,” Grayson replied, not bothering to try and keep his voice inaudible to the phone this time.

“… Who is this— Where’d you go, Lyra?” Lyra felt almost bad for Harry.

“I’m Lyra’s boyfriend. And, yes, she’s busy, this is a bad time.” He replied. Lyra shot him a look but her smile didn’t seem to be willing to seize.

“B- BOYFRIEND?? SHE WAS WITH HER— OH— oh. OH!! THATS WHY SHE WAS SO FLUSTERED. THIS MUST BE SO AWKWARD FOR HER WITH ME BEING—” Harry was cut off by Grayson.

“It doesn’t matter who you are. She wasn’t awkwarded out.” Grayson stated in the cold tone he used to scare people off. Lyra could hear the unspoken words, by the likes of you.

“Don’t be rude, Gray.” Lyra whispered to him.

“You asked me to be honest.” Grayson replied, innocently. Lyra wicked him on the arm again playfully.

“… I’m just gonna hang up now.” Said Harry before hanging up.

Lyra and Grayson sat their in silence staring at each other for a while.

“Why does he talk so much?” Grayson asked, finally.

Lyra raised her brow in response.

“Like— didn’t you both literally just talk, why does he feel the need to continue talking again?” He said.

Lyra didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Just pass on the message your mom gave him and shut the fuck up.” Grayson stated matter of-factly, and Lyra almost fell off Grayson’s lap when she saw a pout form on his face.

Grayson Davenport Hawthorne. Pouting. God, she had been blessed. Pouting shouldn’t have looked as good on him as it did.

“Grayson,” Lyra said as he met her gaze, “You’re jealous.” She stated.

Grayson stared at her for a while. “That I am, sweetheart. I don’t like him.” He said. Lyra smiled.

“You don’t have to. I don’t plan on talking to him much.” She replied. Grayson ‘hmm’ed in response, something still bothering him.

Lyra rolled her eyes, he was being incredibly petty, “No, we didn’t kiss. Or hug. Or cuddle. Or any of that stuff. Just one failed date.” She said.

Then, Grayson actually smiled, “So, I’m your first?” He asked, satisfied. Lyra rolled her eyes a second time.

“Yes. You are.” She replied.

Eventually Grayson and Lyra got up since he needed to shower.

“Alright, you should shower now. I’ll go use the other washroom.” Lyra stated, turning around.

“Or.” Grayson said and Lyra stopped, facing him again.

Grayson leaned in and whispered something directly into her ear. Lyra went red.

“G-GRAYSON???!!!!”

———————————

What Grayson said? I’ll leave that up to ur imaginations.

BRO IDK JEALOUSY FICS ISTG. But I had this ask for a while so I figured I might as well 😭🥹🙏🏻

This plot came to me in the shower lmfao—

@alwaysthefangirl , @lyrakanefanatic

Constructive Criticism ❤️❤️❤️✨

(@haniya1234, I’m late, but I’m here 😔😌✨ I couldn’t think of a nice premise for before dating so this turned out to be after 😭😭🙏🏻, apologies 😭🥹🙏🏻 ENJOYYY.)

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f4iry-bell · 6 months ago

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CHANGE MY MIND

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

summary: grayson pushed reader away sm that he lost her.

tagging: @unnoodles @never-enough-novels @alwaysthefangirl @clarissaweasley-10 @benny1989fredd @imaseabear @elysianwayy77 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07

warning: angst

a/n: inspired by @daystarpoet 's cai 🤭pls do check it out, it's amazing.

masterlist

He does it again, he has been pushing her away for the past week, not telling how he really feels. Whenever she asks him, it's always “I'm fine” , the obvious lie. It was so frustrating for both of them as Grayson just won't tell her what is up, and she can't just watch him go through something alone, without understanding.

Grayson was currently driving her to this event they're supposed to go to, something that's hosted by the heiress for charity. The problem is the drive was filled with Graysons lonely suffering, he wanted to be alone at the moment, especially with her constantly asking what's wrong. He was a patient person but he needed her to stop it, without thinking he snapped.

“Will you ever stop? I said I'm fine.” He gripped the steering wheel.

“I'm just trying to under—”

“No, you're trying to be annoying.” The words stung her heart. She didn't expect him to ever use such a word on her.

She looked at him with slightly teary eyes but she didn't want him to see her, so she turned her face towards the window, and kept quiet the entire ride.

Grayson, realising what he has done, gently put his hands on her knees to show her he didn't mean it, but she barely acknowledged his touch or him. She completely ignored him. It hurts Grayson that she ignored him, but he knew he deserved it. After all, he led her to this.

After the teacher held the event, she didn't wait for Grayson to open her door, she immediately got out and started walking to the event. Grayson, given his speed, caught up to her quickly. Once they were in he put his hands on the small of her back as he led her through the crowd, they met some new people, he introduced her to them as his girlfriend as if nothing is going on between them right. She slipped away from him for a while, while he was thinking about the situation, and his habit of isolation, distancing himself. She came back to where she left him, and spoke.

“Avery invited me to stay over at her place. You can leave if you wish to, I'll be going riding with her and Jameson.” She said, her face was flushed a bit.

“Oh.” He wasn't processing what she said at first. “You don't have to leave with them.” He gathered himself.

“I should.”

“No, you're doing this on purpose.”

“So?”

He hated how calm her tone sounded, but he knew her body language said otherwise.

“So you're being childish. We have an argument, and you don't want to face the aftermath.” He pointed.

“No, Grayson I don't. And it's rich coming from you because you don't face anything! You don't face me when you're feeling like—I have no clue what— and I have to sit here, and watch you go through it alone!” She snapped.

The words hit him, he knew it was true, and he hated it. When she noticed the lack of reply she shook her head, and walked away but Grayson caught her arm, gentle yet firm.

“Don't walk away from me.”

“Why? I thought I was annoying.”

“Don't— you're being difficult.”

“No, it's easy. You push me away, and now I'm going away. It's as simple as that.”

“No, you're being stubborn.”

“And you're not?” She scoffed.

“I'm sick of this, always arguing with you, always asking for answers that I can't give you. I'm sick of it.”

“Then let me go.”

He loosened his grip on her hand.

“No, Grayson, I meant let me go. Out of your life.” Her shoulders relaxed when she finished her sentence. Grayson's stiffened.

“I…You don't mean that.”

“I do. You either let me in or let me go.”

Grayson looked down, and shook his head. “You can't put me in this position.”

“No. I'm not, if you can't be vulnerable, if you still feel not comfortable enough to be vulnerable with me after six months of dating, then I don't think I'm the right person for you, Grayson.” It hurted her to say the last part. She really thought they were going to last forever when they started dating.

He was awfully quiet, he was deciding what to say. He knew what his problem was, but he just couldn't tell her. This is the right thing.

“Maybe you're right.” She knew what she said but hearing it from him was worse.

She nodded her head. “I'll take a cab home, and move out tomorrow.”

Grayson helped her with the cab. He wanted to be close to her at the last moment, because he was never going to get her back. After everything he did, and said she'll never take him back.

#the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne fanfic #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #avery grambs #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game #games untold

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lyrakanefanatic · 23 days ago

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LMAOOOOO i was working on a fic last night at like 12:30 AM and….

in my defense, i was very tired 😓😓

#IM WEAK IDEK WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY #the grandest game #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #lyra catalina kane #lyra kane #lyrason #the brothers hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #phone girl #maxine liu #fanfic

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leovaldiva · 26 days ago

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Still No Roommate?

L. K. + G. H.

Warnings: pretty suggestive, no actual smut or even kissing but like references to past sexual experiences and such. fluff in a spicy way

Length: like 300-400 words idk i wrote this in my notes app

Description: Lyra and Grayson live together secretly, but Jameson shows up and figures it out

AN: hi so i’m sorry if this sucks feel free to give me constructive criticism!! but only constructive i’m just trying my best please be nice to me :)) Anyways in this I have Lyra winning the grandest game but i only mention it once so you can just ignore it if you don’t want her to win!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A knock reverberates on the door of Lyra and Grayson’s penthouse in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Grayson had hastily purchased the apartment about 20 minutes after he moved into his first dorm. Turns out, having an entire wing of a mega mansion to yourself is a lot more comfortable than sharing a dorm room with two random men, even if they’re Harvard students.

Grayson and Lyra had been living together for a while, Grayson had asked Lyra to move in with him right after she won the grandest game, and they’ve lived together in secret ever since.

Lyra is upstairs in their bedroom so she doesn’t hear the knock, but Grayson does. He opens the door see Jameson standing there.

“How’d you get my address?” Grayson demands.

“Why didn’t you tell me your address?” Jameson smirks, “got yourself a little roommate?”

He gestures at the louboutin heels Grayson had gifted Lyra for their anniversary, hastily thrown in the foyer. Grayson cursed himself for not choosing an apartment with a coat closet.

“No, I live alone.” Grayson lies. Lyra accidentally contradicts the lie from upstairs as she decides this is the optimal time to discuss laundry.

“Asshole! Do you remember which direction you threw my red underwear?” She calls from their upstairs bedroom.

Grayson sighs, excepting his fate.

“Which red pair sweetheart? You have like six!” he shouts back to her.

“The shimmery lace ones that move to the side easy! and I only have 3 pairs!”

“Oh yes, those! I like those darling!”

Jameson’s eyes widen in horror, Grayson can’t possibly have a sex life??

“Me too, they’re comfy! Which is why I need to find them!”

“I think they went behind us, maybe on the bookshelf? Check between Jane Austen and Wilbert Awdry!” Grayson yells.

“Found them!”

Lyra pauses before yelling again, slightly disgusted, “Oh my God, these need to be washed!!”

“Put them in the hamper with my burgundy suit! I’m taking it to the dry cleaners tomorrow, darling!”

“Thanks babe!”

Jameson leans forward, grinning at Grayson “Still no roommate, loverboy?”

“Shut up.”

“Nice hickey, bAbE” Jameson sing-songs, poking at the very prominent love bite on Grayson’s neck.

“I hope you die.” Grayson deadpans

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AN: hiii! i hope you liked it!

sorry it’s really short :(

Wilbert Awdry is one of the authors of the book that inspired thomas the train engine, a renowned children’s book about a living train. I just thought that was a silly little detail that no one would know unless I mentioned it or they were just that into trains! Obviously Lyra and Grayson would most likely not own those books :)

I don’t know if any apartments have second floors? but I feel like Lyra and Grayson wouldn’t live in a house yet, so this apartment complex does. Sorry if that’s unrealistic, I’ve never lived in an apartment.

Lyra goes to Harvard too, right? it’s been a while since I read tgg, so I don’t remember for sure, but I think she does!

I hope the underwear thingy isn’t weird, when I thought of the plot for this I wasn’t thinking about them having sex, I was thinking about Jameson teasing Gray in a silly little way.

anyway I hope you liked it! I have some more ideas so let me know if yall want a part two…

shout out to @haniya1234 for inspo with the shoe as a gift thing!

tags: @alwaysthefangirl @lyragrayson4ever

#lyragray #lyra x grayson #lyrason fix #lyrason #lyra catalina kane #grayson x lyra #lyra kane #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #fanfic #the inheritance games

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clarissaweasley-10 · 2 months ago

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let's face it, most of y'all hate Savannah and Thea which is understandable, but, had they been boys then again most of y'all would have been head over heels for them... And this is one of the most blatant examples of gender standards in this fandom...

#again I'm not saying that you shouldn't dislike either of them #or that they are goddesses and they've done nothing wrong in their lives #it's your choice to either like them or not #and both these characters are very flawed and have had their moments #but I'm just trying to point out how if that had been boys then this would've been easily excused #boy-savannah would've got the most insane fancasts and fanfics #and don't even get me started on male-thea #“he” may have beat the Hawthornes themselves #the majority of you would've been fawning over 'him' and wanting a bf like'him'#which isnt wrong cuz id be going damn crazy too #but ig it's just weird to see these gender standards #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #tig #avery kylie grambs #xander hawthorne #lyra kane #averyjameson #maxine liu #max liu #libby grambs #thea calligaris #savannah grayson #gigi grayson #rohan tgg #tgg #the grandest game

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inmyheaddd · 4 months ago

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coffee sweetener — grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: the way i have like 6 other fics i'm working on, this was so cute though I had to write it asap!! thank u sm for the req! wc: 1.8k summary: one of your regulars at your café, grayson— who happens to be insanely handsome, comes in today like usual. but strangely enough, things go a tad further than the surface level small talk you usually have.

a familiar suit clad blonde walked in the near empty cafe you worked in. there was a soft hum of some chatter, but not much, as the early morning sun filtered through the large windows.

some people glanced up from their tables for a second, and some people glanced up at him for a lot more than a small second. could you blame them? no, not really.

his eyes immediately found yours as he walked up to the cash register which you stood behind, and you found yourself averting your gaze involuntarily. 7:14 AM the time read. there was only one thing that made the early morning shift worth it, and it seemed to be standing right infront of you now.

today his suit was gray, you noticed. it made his eyes stand out so much more, you nearly stumbled over your words. “you again,” you said, narrowing your eyes jokingly and biting back a smile.

he smiled the tiniest smile, shrugging as if to say ‘what can i say’ before pretending to look up at the menu to order.

“what would you recommend today?” he spoke smoothly, a stark contrast to some of the other people that would come in and simply shout at you.

“why does that matter?” you teased, tilting your head to the side before you looked down at the cash register for a moment and realised you’d already started putting in his usual order. “you get the same thing every time.”

“'there seem to be no specials, but I'm in the mood for a change.'' he said, his grey eyes doing a once over on you. god, how you wish you weren’t wearing that horrible work apron right now. ''I can be a man full of surprises.”

you let out a small chuckle, “i find that hard to believe.”

everything about him screamed precise and orderly. that was partly what intrigued you so much when you first met him. the fact that he was incredibly gorgeous wasn’t so bad either.

you expected him to get a black coffee, maybe a croissant if he was feeling extra adventurous that day, but no a large americano and a muffin. he would also get a blueberry scone or two some days, but always get it to go, and never eat it himself.

you almost wondered if he was ordering for someone else, maybe a girlfriend. but again, no. he sat alone with just his work laptop, having his americano and muffin.

“is that so?” he countered, a slight raise of one of his brows and an amused smile playing on his lips.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t smiling yourself. “very much so.”

you were thankful there weren’t any customers in line behind him that would yell at you for taking too long. but even if there was a rude customer, you doubted they yell.

grayson had one of those sort of intimidating presences that made you think he was born to be a ceo or something. now that he’d been a regular for a couple months, that intimidation mostly wore off on you. you just thought he was a pretty cute guy with an obsession for suits.

“i suppose i’ll have to prove you wrong then,” he said that in a way that made you think he proves people wrong very often. he adjusted one of his suits lapels, inadvertently drawing your eyes to his arms. “so i ask again, what do you recommend?”

tearing your eyes away from his arms and back to his face, you asked, “you’re really going with this? okay, fine.” you raised your eyebrows like he had challenged you, but you still couldn’t wipe that stupid smile off your face.

you rested your hands on the counter, “uhm,” you thought, humming slightly, “well, i usually get a refresher— like the strawberry or dragon fruit ones, or i get a hot chocolate.” you said, then a thought sparked in your mind. “oh! and a chocolate chip cookie. and a cake pop.”

you bit back a grin— you did not get cake pops or chocolate chip cookies regularly, but the image of grayson with a cake pop or cookie made you want to laugh for some reason.

“alright then,” he said, ''may i get a medium strawberry refresher, and a,'' he paused, saying the words like they almost pained him, ''two... two chocolate chip cookies, please.''

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

grayson left with his drink and cookie, sitting down at a table a bit further in the back, but he was still conveniently in your eyeline. he opened his briefcase, which you hadn't even realised he was holding. it seemed so natural for him to hold, you hadn't looked twice. you caught yourself looking at him frequently, and sometimes he would glance up from his laptop and lock eyes with you for a moment.

he came up to the counter a few minutes later, his drink finished and thrown away, and a cookie and a half left, adjusting his suit jacket with one hand, briefcase in the other. you fake sighed in annoyance as if his very presence was pestering you-- quite the contrary, really.

he only smiled in response.

''well?'' you said, wiping imaginary dust off of your apron, ''how was it? you sticking to the muffins?''

''I have to say, the refresher wasn't horrible. it was quite nice, actually.'' he said, and you gave him a teasing look that was like, 'told you so!' before he continued. ''however, the cookies were far too sweet. i’m sorry, you seem to have terrible culinary taste.''

you fake scoffed, painting the picture of being truly offended. ''okay, can i tell you a secret?'' you leaned forward, and he entertained you by doing the same, motioning for you to continue. ''yes, you're right. these cookies are absolutely horrible, i agree. but i make much better ones.''

amusement flashed across his eyes, like he guessed you had picked out the not-so-good snacks for him on purpose. “really?” he prompted, a dimple flashing in one of his cheeks as he smiled.

“yes,” you swore seriously with a smile that contrasted that no-nonsense tone, “really.”

“i’d like to be the judge of that.” he said, his voice low and teasing and- god, you could listen to it forever.

“trust me, i’m not lying. i’ll bring some to work tomorrow, just remind me to actually bake them. i have such bad memory.”

“and how exactly would i be able to remind you?” he tilted his head to one side slightly, a teasing glint in his eye like he could see where you were getting at, and was entertaining it.

your heart was beating crazy fast, but it was time to finally make a move on this guy. the cash register flirting was simply not enough anymore. you hoped he felt whatever chemistry you were feeling too-- and that you weren't misreading things. then again, you almost failed the subject, so it wouldn't be surprising if you were still getting it wrong.

“why don’t i give you my number," you started, feeling your hands get clammy, ''and you could text me after my shift?”

his dimples flashed a second time, his eyes doing another once over on you. okay, surely you couldn't misread that one.

you felt your cheeks get hot as he spoke once again, his voice so smooth and low that it fit perfectly with the serenity of the morning and café. “i think i’d like that very much, and that i'll be looking forward to tomorrow.”

biting back a smile and ignoring the way your stomach erupted with seemingly a million butterflies , you somehow managed to say, “alright, then. i think i'd like it too.''

you wrote down your number on his receipt, ignoring the way your hands trembled with excitement and nervousness, drawing a little smiley face next to it.

holy shit, you were never like this. your heart raced as you watched his eyes find the bottom of the receipt and give you a tiny smile. you watched him sit down an his work laptop, then pull out his phone, type something in, and put it back in his suit's pocket.

ugh, you would break every rule and look at your phone right now, except you were on your last strike for using your phone in the middle of shifts, and you did not want to get fired from this little coffee shop for the sole reason of seeing that one blonde man every morning and having your usual banter.

''wait,'' you called out, ''what are you going to do with the rest of the cookies? you said, ''don't tell me you'll throw those absolute delicacies away.'' you added jokingly, and grayson simply shook his head, looking down with a slight laugh with a single blonde strand of hair falling into his face.

''I'm keeping them for my younger brother,'' he replied, a fondness in his voice, ''he's quite something, with his extreme love for baked goods.''

you hummed in thought, suddenly realising this was the first time you'd heard about him having brothers. this was really the first conversation about anything that didn't involve small talk and café related things, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to continue learning more about him. getting to know eachother.

''I think those atrocious cookies will change that love he has,'' you mumbled under your breath without thinking as you shook your head.

you heard grayson chuckle, ''what was that?'' he teased.

''god, i'm gonna get myself fired. forget i said anything.'' you groaned as you covered your face with your hands, already feeling your cheeks heat up again.

''that would prove very difficult,'' he replied smoothly as you put your hands back down. ''I find it near impossible to forget anything you say to me.''

if you thought your cheeks were heated a few seconds ago, they were blazing now. you averted your gaze for a quick second, but his gaze didn't leave yours.

chuckling slightly, you managed to speak without stumbling. "should i start worrying about all my bad jokes being permanently filed away?"

"bad jokes?" he quipped, "i've yet to hear one from you.'' he did not let up on his charm for a single moment, a laugh escaping your lips before he resumed. ''but if you insist, i’ll let you know when you make your first."

'''I'll see you tomorrow, then?''

you nodded, muttering a small 'bye' as you watched grayson step out of the café, the sound of the door chiming behind him.

the anticipation was unbearable, and despite knowing you were on thin ice with your manager, your hand inched toward your phone on the counter.

a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed no one was watching. you unlocked your phone, heart racing as you checked your notifications.

there it was—a new text, well, one from about 10 minutes ago.

Unknown Number:

Already counting down to tomorrow. 🙃 Don’t forget those cookies you talk of, I'm holding you to it.

you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you quickly saved the number, your hands trembling slightly. you almost let out a snort as his emoji choice before typing, glancing again to make sure the coast was clear.

you

i definitely won’t be forgetting now that you've texted I just may be looking forward to tomorrow too 🫣

you were thankful the place was practically empty, because surely you looked like a crazy person, smiling to yourself. you set the phone back down, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you. the day suddenly didn’t feel quite so long anymore.

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable @anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear @clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm @goldi-1-graysons-version @saigonharrington @peppapigsposts @thoughtdaughter3

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byhawthorne · 3 months ago

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Valentine's Day.

– Grayson Hawthorne x fem!xreader : she receives flowers for valentine's day but with a little puzzle

an : hi! This is my attempt writing a valentine's day special. it was supposed to be something short but i wanted to add a little something that would happen in the books and it ended up being 80% solving the puzzle. it's definitely not my best work, sorry!

Her first Valentine’s Day with a boyfriend… and she couldn’t even see him. At least, not for most of the day.

It felt like the universe had conspired to make it impossible for her to see Grayson that day. Even when she had stopped by the foundation, he wasn’t there. Sometimes, she just wanted to force him to take a break.

"Excuse me."

She turned at the sound of a voice behind her just as she was about to leave. A girl she didn’t recognize stood in front of her.

"Are you Grayson Hawthorne’s girlfriend?"

She felt like she could throw up right there and there, but she just nodded. She would never get used to it—to being called his girlfriend. It had taken her so long to open up to someone again, and he had been the only person who had managed to do it.

"There’s something for you."

She frowned in confusion and waited. Maybe an envelope, a folder she had forgotten. She glanced at the papers in her hands, but she was pretty sure she had everything.

A guy approached and placed something in the girl’s arms. A bouquet of her favorite flowers was in her hands seconds later. She looked at the girl, bewildered, but the huge smile on her face made her wonder if this was just some elaborate joke she was in on.

"It's from your boyfriend," the girl explained. She said something else, but the moment those four words left her lips, her ears stopped registering anything else.

Had Grayson left the flowers there? Had he sent someone? Called a place? How had he managed to do this so quickly?

She reached for the small note nestled among the flowers, noticing the florist’s logo. For a second, it seemed familiar. But when she opened the tiny card, something inside her sank.

It was blank. There was nothing written.

She sighed before turning around and heading toward the car that was waiting for her. That strange feeling in her chest lingered. She couldn’t believe they had forgotten to write a message. Maybe he hadn’t sent anything written, and the florist had made a mistake. Maybe…

The man holding the car door open for her frowned when she didn’t step inside. She just stood there, frozen, staring at the card in her hand.

Grayson Hawthorne would never send a blank card to her. There was something more.

It was the small, unusual glimmer before getting into the car that revealed the truth—it was invisible ink.

She hated invisible ink. Avery had used it for her last invitation to some kind of dinner she had organized. Why couldn’t the Hawthornes just use regular ink? Or a simple text message would work just as well.

The tip of her shoe tapped against the ground impatiently the entire way back to her apartment. The car dropped her off at the building’s entrance. She thanked the driver, and practically ran to the elevator. A mix of desperation and adrenaline rushed through her veins—she needed to confirm if she was right.

Ignoring her cat’s meowing was difficult, but she rushed to her room and started rummaging through her drawers, hoping to find a small ultraviolet light she had stored somewhere. She huffed when she didn’t find it and scooped up her cat.

“Luka, do you remember where I left the UV light?” she murmured, though she obviously didn’t expect an answer. She stroked the cat’s head while her eyes scanned the room. Until her eyes fell on a specific drawer.

The one Grayson had nicknamed the disaster drawer.

She set Luka down and walked over, making an even bigger mess as she searched through it. The ultraviolet light appeared in front of her seconds later. Letting out a victorious gasp, she hurried back to the living room, where she had left the flowers and the card.

Turning on the UV light, she held it over the card to reveal… nothing. Her brow furrowed, and disappointment flooded her chest.

Nothing.

Why wasn’t there anything? It had to be invisible ink. If it wasn’t…

She looked around, searching for something else to focus on. That’s when her eyes landed on the small lamp by the couch.

Her mother hated that lamp. She had told her to get rid of it because she always forgot to turn it off, and the bulb overheated too much. She had even recommended the ones that didn’t emit so much heat.

She looked at the card again. Then at the lamp.

Setting the UV light down on the counter, she walked over to the small side table, took a seat, and placed the card directly under the lamp.

She waited one second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

She waited.

The message slowly began to appear.

A smile stretched across her face as excitement bubbled up inside her. It wasn’t UV light—it was heat.

And the message was much longer than she had expected.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to read it carefully, without rushing. Maybe this was just another clue and not the final answer.

"I still remember the night of August 9th. 9 centimeters of distance, 6 seconds and more than 20 reasons to do it. Another 20 seconds that felt like an eternity, more than 19 thoughts in my mind, 19 wishes and 19 breaths. 11 seconds later and 5 wishes hoping you felt the same. 18 seconds later you said it and you were mine."

Her mind went blank.

She was trying to think at full speed, but at the same time, she felt overwhelmed and confused. It didn’t make sense… Her eyes scanned the card again, searching for something different.

Too many numbers.

She reached for a pen and some paper, but when she couldn’t find any, she simply began writing the numbers on her leg.

8, 9, 9, 6, 20, 20, 19, 19, 19, 11, 5, 18.

She stared at them. Over and over again.

They didn’t look like coordinates, a phone number, or a date.

She hesitated, wondering if she should include the eight or if that would ruin the puzzle. August was mentioned, and August was the eighth month of the year. In her mind, it made sense—it could either break the entire code or help her solve it. She’d find out in the end.

She bit the tip of the pen as the tip of her shoe tapped against the floor, trying to think. Her brain refused to turn its gears.

If it wasn’t coordinates, a date, or a phone number, then it could only be…

Something clicked. The gears in her mind finally started turning when she realized it.

It wasn’t coordinates. It wasn’t a phone number. It wasn’t a date.

It was a numeric cipher.

Five minutes later, with a little help of the internet, she had deciphered each letter:

H, I, I, F, T, G, S, S, S, K, E, R.

Now she had a new problem. The letters were scrambled.

She huffed, letting herself fall onto her bed while staring at the jumbled letters she had written down.

She had tried to put them in order, but there were too many possible combinations—and it was already getting late.

Valentine’s Day was about to end, and if she ruined whatever Grayson had planned just because she couldn’t arrange a few stupid letters…

Her eyes drifted back to the card. Every detail.

The barely visible letters.

The letters she had written.

The texture of the card…

The logo of the flower shop.

When she first received the flowers, it had felt familiar. And only now did her brain finally piece it together.

The night of their last date before they became a couple.

The flower shop they had stopped at.

The moment she told Grayson what her favorite flowers were. Then, he had joked that he should give her flowers on every special occasion—though not necessarily from that shop.

That date, that night.

The night of their first kiss.

11 seconds later and 5 wishes hoping you felt the same.

18 seconds later you said it and you were mine.

It wasn’t random.

Her hands trembled as she grabbed the pen again, rearranging the letters she had found. Her heart pounded in her chest, hoping with everything she had that she wasn’t wrong.

And when the words finally came together—perfectly—she felt like jumping with joy.

She had solved it.

THE FIRST KISS.

"A numeric cipher?"

The silence was broken by her voice. Grayson turned around—he hadn’t heard her arrive, but she was there. She had figured it out.

"You solved it."

"The flower shop clue was too easy."

She smiled as she walked toward him.

The place of their first kiss had been the answer, and she had found it.

She had already noticed the soft glow of the candles on the table where he had set up dinner for the two of them. She didn’t even bother asking when he had found the time to prepare everything. All she could think about was how perfect it looked…

Their first kiss.

If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the nervous excitement of that day.

"I knew you could unscramble the letters on your own, but I thought I’d give you a little help—otherwise, dinner would get cold." She let out a soft laugh as she finally closed the remaining distance between them.

"I thought you had work," she murmured.

"Well, there’s this girl who keeps telling me to take a break, so I figured I’d listen to her for once." She felt Grayson’s hands on her waist, pulling her closer and closing the last few centimeters between them.

"Happy first Valentine's Day," she murmured. She could feel his breath, so close to her.

Just like their first kiss. Grayson's fingers caressed her cheek softly. He was so close to her, until… his lips finally touched hers. She could feel her heart beating hard, Grayson's soft lips moved against hers slowly and gently, enjoying the closeness, the kiss.

Their first Valentine's kiss.

#𐙚⋆hannah writes #grayson hawthorne #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne fluff #jameson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #nash hawthorne #grayson hawthorne fanfic #tig #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the grandest game #games untold #the inheritance games #jennifer lynn barnes

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lyrakanefanaticwriting · 14 days ago

Text

hehe im actually glad i got this request bc ive been wanting to write a fic like this for a while!!

4 Kisses

——————————————————

GRAYSON:

Grayson leaned over the bathroom faucet, splashing water onto his face. They were still in the break period of the game. The contestants were urged to relax.

But Grayson could in no way relax considering he had just kissed Lyra Kane.

The kiss was slow at first, her lips softer than they looked, before it became quicker with each brush of his lips on hers. And then, once it ended, Lyra had backed away, and the look on her face…

She looked like she had done something wrong. She looked regretful. And, when Grayson tried to ask her what was going on, she backed away from him.

“I can’t do this right now Grayson,” she had said. Grayson had taken her hand in his a moment before she ran off.

“Please talk to me.” he had said—no, almost begged. She looked at him, and he could tell that she was caught off guard, that she hadn’t expected to see her grief mirrored in his face so visibly. She squeezed her eyes shut.

“214-506-3301.” Was all she said. Grayson’s eyes widened once he realized the significance of those numbers. She let go of his hand gently, before backing away slowly. “Call me later. But right now… I just can’t, Grayson.”

So thats how Grayson ended up on the floor of the bathroom in his room, entering her number in his phone, labelling it “Lyra”. He knew by the words “call me later” that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight, either. But Grayson wouldn’t take the risk of interrupting any hopes of sleep that Lyra might have tonight, because her rest is more important that Grayson’s closure. Her health always will be.

Staring at her number in his phone while wishing for a thousand things that he knew would never come true, Grayson finally willed his fingers to slide to his messages, and type a 3 digit number into the group chat with all his brothers; 911.

When his brothers had came, Grayson looked overall normal, aside from the tips of his hair that were wet and his tie that had gone slightly undone. The pain from Lyra’s silent rejection didn’t show on Grayson’s face, and he was grateful, for once, that he had learned at a young age to hide his emotions.

But his brothers noticed every little detail.

“Something wrong, Gray?” Nash asked. His tone wasn’t gentle, but instead sturdy, like a shoulder Grayson had to lean on. Grayson was going to tell them. He was going to tell them that he and Lyra kissed, and how Lyra responded to the kiss. But then he realized that telling them her response would lead to more questions, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he told Lyra’s horrible trauma regarding her father to his brothers when the situation was so complex. He paused, and Jameson took up the opportunity to speak.

“Really Nash? Gray over here hasn’t called a 911 in 2 years and all you have to say is “something wrong?”? Here’s a real question,” Jameson said, giving him a sly smile. “are you ready for what we have planned?” Grayson narrowed his eyes at him.

“What activities can we even participate in? It’s not like we can leave the island, and it might seem a little weird to the other contestants if they see us frolicking around on the island. Besides, there’s hardly any indoor activities that would please you.” Grayson stated curtly. Jameson’s smile widened.

“Whatever you say, Gray.” Jameson said in a sing-song tone. Xander had a matching grin on his face beside Jameson, and Grayson could tell that they had planned this 911 together.

Now, all Grayson could do was fear for his dignity.

Coating one of the hallways in soap and sliding down it in a plastic shed was not something Grayson expected to do today, but then again, he didn’t expect any of the activities planned.

And, once they were done, the age old Hawthorne game called Drink or Dare commenced. And, as it seemed, Grayson was losing terribly.

“Jameson,” Grayson started in an attempt to get Jameson back for all his dares, his voice the slightest bit off as he was getting tipsier, “I dare you to call Mrs. Laughlin and pretend you’re calling Avery.” Jameson snorted.

“That’s it? Wow, you’ve lost your touch Gray.” Jamie said, pulling out his phone. But his fingers lingered as he stared at Grayson with a raised brow. Grayson wasn’t done, and Jameson knew it. Grayson smiled as he continued.

“Pretend you’re calling Avery, except pretend you’re doing something over the phone that not even myself in this state will elaborate on.” Gray continued. Xander exploded into laughter, putting his hands over his ears and muttering “ew, ew, ew”, while Nash was chuckling. Jameson laughed too, but Grayson saw how his ears turned the slightest bit red as he immediately grabbed the shot glass in front of him, spilling its contents slightly as he drank the shot. Slamming the glass down, Jameson directed his focus onto Xander.

“Xander, I dare you to coat yourself in a bottle of shaving cream and run around the island.” Jameson said. Grayson let the slightest smile out as he watched Xander jackrabbit out of the room.

“And now,” Jameson said, twirling his empty shot glass, “we wait.”

Conversation and a few easier dares started up, before out the window they saw Xander with a shaving cream hat, shaving cream face, and shaving cream all over his chest and arms running around the island like a maniac. Grayson’s smile broadened, while Jameson was dying laughing and Nash had to fist a hand in his mouth to stop himself from doing so as well. 5 minutes later, Xander came back in.

“A lot of shaving cream flew off my perfect body, but I have to say, that was fun!” Xander said with a grin as he wiped shaving cream off his face. “Well, it was fun until I slipped.” Grayson snorted. Jameson leaned back in his chair.

“I’m getting bored of this game. How about we play Hawthorne truth or dare?” Jameson asked. Grayson raised a brow in intrigue. “Truth or dare. If you can’t answer a truth or complete a dare, you take a shot.” Grayson narrowed his eyes at Jameson.

“Where did you get all this alcohol from?” Grayson asked in suspicion. Jameson smirked.

“You really thought I’d come to Hawthorne Island without alcohol?” Jameson replied. Grayson snorted. Jameson had him there.

“My turn,” Nash started, his cowboy accent thicker as a result of him getting tipsier. “Jameson, truth or dare.” Jameson smirked.

“Dare. Who do you think I am?” Jameson replied. Nash smiled.

“I dare you to babysit Hannah and Sarah once the game ends.” Nash said simply. Jameson’s jaw dropped as Xander burst out laughing. Grayson couldn’t stop his small smile from broadening either. (Authors Note: i know nash’s kids probably weren’t even conceived yet, but for the sake of this fic, let’s pretend that they were, and that they’re about a couple months old or something)

“Are you serious? You can’t use dares to rope us into babysitting your kids!” Jameson exclaimed, while Nash, Xander, and even Grayson himself were laughing. But then Jameson rolled his eyes.

“But of course I will, I love those two.” Jameson said begrudgingly. Nash smirked.

“You better.” Nash told him. His tone wasn’t dangerous, but we weren’t stupid. Xander redirected his focus from Nash to Grayson. So far, Xander hadn’t taken a single shot, mainly because his hatred for shots had fuelled his dare abilities.

“Grayson, truth or dare!” Xander bellowed. Grayson raised a brow at him.

“Truth.” Grayson answered, after a moment’s consideration. Xander grinning cheekily.

“Where were you…” Xander started, his grin stretched across his face. “a couple of hours ago?” Grayson froze, but only for the slightest moment.

A couple of hours ago, he had been with Lyra. He had been kissing her, and for once, nothing felt wrong.

But for Lyra, he could tell that everything was wrong.

Grayson couldn’t tell his brothers the truth, that they had been kissing a couple of hours ago, because he couldn’t risk letting any information go about her running off. They would sniff a story out immediately, and Lyra’s father’s situation was not his story to tell.

He’d never forgive himself if he compromised any information about Lyra’s father to his brothers without Lyra’s okay.

Grayson spoke to stop the pain in his chest before it started.

“What do you mean?” Grayson asked, tip-toeing around the question. Jameson butted in.

“Where were you a couple of hours ago? It’s a pretty straightforward question.” Jameson prodded, a sly smile on his face and intrigue clear in his expressions. Grayson kept a straight face.

“I was walking around the island. I couldn’t sleep.” He said. Technically, Grayson wasn’t lying. He was walking around the island. He couldn’t sleep.

However, his reasons behind being wide awake, thinking, and walking around the island weren’t for personal purposes. They were for a certain tanned ballerina, who had been plaguing his mind for hours.

So… it technically wasn’t a lie.

Jameson opened his mouth, and Grayson could tell he was about to accuse him of lying, when Grayson received a phone call. He jolted upwards, thinking it would be Lyra, before checking his phone and not seeing her name on the screen, but an unknown number. With a raised brow and slightly deflated manner, Grayson stood up.

“Excuse me for one moment,” Grayson said, leaving the room before answering the call.

“Hello?” he said. There was silence. Grayson’s brow furrowed.

“Who is this?” he asked, to apparently nobody. The silence drew on for a few moments more, before the person on the other end of the phone hung up. Weird.

Grayson put his phone away with a sigh, before walking back into the room.

“Who was it?” Jameson asked, his expression full of intrigue as he wore a sly smile. Graysons brows furrowed.

“I don’t know. The person on the other end of the line didn’t say a word before hanging up.” Grayson said, his brain working through who it could be as he placed his phone face-up on the table. A person who got the wrong number?

“Maybe it’s a prank caller?” Xander offered. Grayson entertained the idea in his head, but seriously doubted it. Nash looked elsewhere as he spoke.

“Maybe it’s Eve.” Nash said. Grayson’s head whipped to his. He was about to speak, when Nash interrupted.

“We know she tried contacting you 2 years back. Is this why you called the 911? Has she been contacting you, and if so, have you been contacting her back?” Nash asked, his gaze steady as he looked at Grayson. Grayson was deeply disturbed. He really did not want to think that it was Eve who called him, and he didn’t want his brothers to think he was calling Eve.

“No. That time 2 years ago was the last. And why would I be trying to make contact with her?” Grayson demanded. Nash gave a half shrug.

“Say what you want, but you don’t have the best track record of resisting against that girl.” Nash said simply, fiddling with his shot glass. Grayson’s head started to hurt, and he wished suddenly that he’d went a bit easier on the shots. His drunk self remembered then that he was supposed to defend himself and rebuke against everything Nash was saying, when Jameson stood.

“Relax, Nash. Whatever Gray and Eve were is over. Besides, just because he gave her a few kisses doesn’t mean the two are linked for life.” Jameson said, his tone unsurprisingly teasing. Grayson frowned as he began cleaning up the empty bottles of alcohol on the table.

“Me and Eve didn’t kiss, but thank you Jamie.” Grayson said, his tone sarcastic, even though he did appreciate the sentiment. Xander laughed.

“Do you need some more kisses, Gray-Bear?” Xander asked him in a baby voice. Nash snorted and Jameson laughed, but Grayson just looked unimpressed as he started putting away empty alcohol bottles.

“Believe it or not, but 4 is good enough for me, Alexander.” Grayson deadpanned, turning around. Grayson didn’t know what it was, but in that moment, it was like all the air got sucked out of the room. Grayson was about to question it as his back was turned to his brothers, before Jameson spoke.

“4, you say?” Jameson pried. But there was something under the innocent curiosity, something that wasn’t so innocent and seemed…. slyer. Grayson frowned. He continued putting the empty bottles in a trash bag they’d brought in case.

“Yes, 4.” Grayson insisted. Maybe it was just his tipsy brain thinking, but something was definitely off. Then Jameson spoke, and Grayson realized what it was.

“Who’s the 4th?” Jameson pried. Grayson froze, but it was so quick that he swore nobody saw. He knew where he’d slipped up; he just had to make sure his brothers didn’t know.

“Hm?” Grayson asked, feigning nonchalance as he tried to downplay it all. Unluckily for him, it didn’t work.

“You said you didn’t kiss Eve, and then proceeded to say you kissed 4 people,” Jameson elaborated, and, when Grayson turned around, he realized Jameson was speaking the words with a great big grin on his face, like he’d discovered something. “There’s Emily, then Avery, then that chick from Harvard, and there would’ve been Eve too, but you didn’t kiss Eve. So who’s the 4th?” Grayson pretended like he’d just remembered something.

“Oh, I must have misspoke then. 3, I mean to say.” Grayson said, nodding as if this were true. But he knew who the 4th person he’d kissed was, and he knew that when he’d accidentally admitted he’d kissed 4 people, his mind was on Lyra.

All his brothers were staring at Grayson with wide smiles on their face that matched their wide eyes. Look at you, Grayson’s mind said in deadpan, you didn’t even have to tell them you kissed Lyra; they already know due to your idiocy.

“What?” Grayson asked, his tone clearly annoyed as his brothers just stared at him. Their smiles only grew.

“You’re lying.” Nash said simply, the words sounding less like an accusation and more like a simple fact. Grayson was going to rebuke his statement… but he couldn’t. Either way, they would know he was lying, and either way, he wanted to tell his brothers about the kiss. It was why he’d called the 911 in the first place.

And that feeling she gave him when she had kissed him—that would never leave him. He would be content to feel that way forever.

Grayson sighed, pulling a chair out from the table they were all sitting around and plopping down in it. He wouldn’t normally be so graceless, but he was drunk, and a part of him couldn’t forget how Lyra had ran away from him after the kiss.

“Who was it?” Jameson sounded like he was about to implode. Grayson looked up at Jameson, and he could feel a lie brewing—“I didn’t want you to judge me for kissing Eve”, just so that he wouldn’t betray any information that Lyra wouldn’t want him to, when his phone, flat on the table, rang.

Grayson couldn’t explain the mixed up excited-yet-horrified feeling he got when he looked down at his phone at the same time as his brothers and saw “Lyra” as the caller.

He saw the exact moment where emotions and different reactions were about to ring out from across the room, when Grayson jumped to his feet, holding a hand out to them.

“You will not act different towards her,” he immediately ordered, picking up his phone. “You won’t give her weird stares every time you see her, you won’t mention anything about this or the two of us to her, and under no circumstances will you make a joke about in-laws. That goes for you the most, Jameson.” Jameson was grinning so widely, and his eyes were gleaming so brightly, that for a second Grayson wondered if he was the one who got kissed.

“Alright, lovebird!” Jameson called out to Grayson as he stumbled out of the room, hooting.

As soon as Grayson closed the door behind him, the room erupted into conversation, laughter…. and cheers? Grayson shook his head before answering the call.

“Lyra.” He said, as soon as he placed the phone to his ear. His heart drummed with the excitement of waiting to hear her voice. And, once it came, his heart began to drum a quicker beat.

“Hello to you too.” Lyra replied. Grayson knew she would make a mockery of the fact that he hadn’t said hello; he wondered then if he was beginning to do things like that on purpose, just to get a reaction out of her. God knows he liked it. There was silence, before she spoke again.

“Hey, I just wanted to say….” her voice trailed off, the words seemingly stuck in her throat.

“It’s okay.” Grayson said. When he didn’t get a response, he spoke again.

“Lyra. It’s okay.” He repeated, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for her to believe him. She sighed.

“You know…. it’s weird how we always end up on the phone.” she finally said, after moments of silence. Grayson smiled.

“Getting deja vu?” he asked. His words jumbled in his mouth, the effects of alcohol getting to him more than he thought it would.

“Are you drunk?” Lyra blatantly asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Grayson sighed.

“No. Maybe. I’m not quite sure.” he said. Lyra snorted.

“So you are. Well, I should be going then. You need to rest.” she said. Grayson frowned.

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

“I don’t.”

“Grayson, please-“

“Maybe I do. But don’t hang up. Please.” his voice teetered on a desperate edge, and he could just barely hear her sharp intake of breath. A few moments of silence passed, before Lyra spoke.

“Okay. I won’t.” she finally said. There was a pause, before she spoke again. “Though I am quite curious, Hawthorne, as to why you’re drunk.” Grayson laughed. He laughed and laughed because Lyra could never know that she was the reason as to why he was drunk.

“What’s so funny?” she said. Grayson could imagine Lyra’s face as she spoke, that smile of hers on it, the one that she never noticed; however, it didn’t matter if she noticed it or not, because Grayson did. Every time.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” Grayson said once he’d stopped laughing. Lyra made a hm sound as if she had suspicions about that, but moved on.

“I’ve been wondering what the next stage of the game will look like.” she said. “I know for sure that it won’t be so much of a “team effort” as it was previously, but there’s still plenty left unknown about it.” Grayson mulled it over.

“There is definitely more than an air of mystery around it.” Grayson agreed. Then his mind went elsewhere. “It will feel odd, going into the next stage of the game without Odette there.”

“I know. I can’t believe she gave her place in the game to him.” Lyra said. Grayson knew which him she was talking about: Brady Daniels. And then he felt a smile touch his lips once he realized he spoke her words with disdain. Leave it to Lyra to dislike someone she doesn’t know.

“He’s a stranger, Lyra. Besides, if Odette gave him her place in the game, it’s probably for good reason.” he said. Grayson could practically see her opening her mouth to rebuke his statement, so he butted in. “Does Odette really strike you as the kind of woman that doesn’t know what she’s doing?” That made her pause.

“No.” she finally grumbled. Grayson was surprised she’d agreed; Lyra was the kind of girl who fought tooth and nail to be right, and Grayson didn’t mind that one bit. He smiled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “but did the Lyra Catalina Kane just agree to something I said?”

“Maybe that’s just your drunk mind talking. You’ve just barely stopped slurring your words, by the way.” Lyra told him. Grayson snorted.

“That response seems fabricated.” Grayson pointed out.

“Name 3 fabrics.” she said, with more than just a hint of sarcasm in her deadpan voice. Grayson couldn’t stop a laugh from leaving his mouth then. Lyra was truly getting back at him for his “did you just agree with me?” jab. Lyra let out the smallest laugh at her own joke.

“Okay. You should be getting some rest.” she told him. Grayson could feel his shoulders slumping once he realized their conversation was coming to an end.

“I don’t need rest.” Grayson said, resisting letting the phone call end.

“You’re not a superhero, Hawthorne. You need rest.” she retorted. Grayson sighed.

“I’m fine.” he rebuked.

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

“Wow, you really don’t like admitting you’re tired, drunk, and in desperate need of rest, do you?” Grayson could feel his filter leaving him as his drunk mind spoke truths without a second thought.

“If I rest, you’ll hang up.” he stated simply. He heard Lyra’s sharp intake of breath, this time more like a vague gasp.

“And? Is that so bad?” Lyra finally asked. The more logical part of Grayson cursed himself for being so forward, whereas the sleep deprived, drunk, and aching for Lyra part of Grayson spoke up again, needing her to hear his words.

“Yes.” He slurred, rubbing his eyes tiredly. There was a pause on Lyra’s end.

“Really?” she asked. Grayson sighed.

“Mhm.” he replied in a low voice. There was silence for more than a few moments on Lyra’s end. Then, at last, she spoke.

“We don’t know what time the game will be starting tomorrow. You do need to get some rest, Grayson.” Lyra repeated. Grayson found he became even more stubborn whenever he was drunk.

“No.” he said. Grayson heard a “hmph” on Lyra’s end.

“Fine.” she said. Grayson realized, with a jolt, that the voice was clearer, like she was closer to him.

Then, when Grayson turned, he realized she was walking down the hallway. Each step was a graceful stride, and Grayson wondered how long he could stand frozen like how he was then, watching each of her movements. Maybe everybody else was also fascinated by how she moved.

Or maybe Grayson was the only one who just liked watching her move.

Finally she came to a stop in front of him. She raised a brow at him. Lyra had changed into comfy attire, with her hair loose and strands beginning to fall into her face. The look on her face said “what now, Grayson?”. Grayson stared back.

“I’m guessing you’re here to force me to rest?” Grayson tried. Lyra snorted.

“Good guess.” she said, patting his arm and holding onto it. Grayson took a step—and stumbled. Lyra looked up at him bewilderedly. He gave her a confused look.

“Okay, seems we have to do this a different way.” she huffed, blowing a strand of hair. Holding onto his arm, the warmth of her hands spreading onto it even through the dress shirt, Lyra pulled one of his arms over her shoulders. She held onto the wrist dangling off her shoulders, her touch gentle yet firm, and began to walk.

“Don’t fall.” she warned. Grayson smiled.

“I won’t.” he replied. It was a short walk to Grayson’s room, with Grayson telling Lyra where to go, and Lyra not letting him fall. Finally they reached the door to his room. Lyra hesitated at the door for a moment, before latching onto the doorknob, giving it a twist, and opening the door. She pulled Grayson inside, brought him towards his bed, and then pushed him onto it. Grayson smiled a smile he’d learned from Jameson, pushing himself up on the bed with his back pressed against the headboard. He stared at her with half-lidded eyes, and after a moment, Lyra’s eyes moved to the floor.

“Well, I should be leaving now.” Lyra said, breaking the moment. Grayson frowned. He was about to say something, anything, to make her stay, when Lyra saw something on the ground and froze. Grayson’s eyebrows furrowed. She knelt down to pick something up, and when she straightened up again, Grayson saw her holding a sheet of paper.

“This was sticking out of your suit jacket pocket.” she said, staring at it with surprise etched into her features. Lyra didn’t have to say what she was looking at, because all of a sudden Grayson remembered the drawing.

The one he had drawn a mere couple of hours ago. The one of her.

Maybe he was supposed to be embarrassed that he had kept the drawing. But his head was starting to pound, and he couldn’t find the effort in him to be embarrassed.

“I must say, I captured you pretty well.” he admitted. Lyra gave him a look, but it was half-hearted. Her eyes strayed back to the drawing.

“You made me look beautiful.” she said in a whispered tone. Then she must have caught herself, and Grayson wondered if Lyra had said those words because she thought he wouldn’t remember them the next day. Grayson stared at her.

“I didn’t make you look beautiful, Lyra.” Grayson said. He didn’t have to finish his sentence for Lyra to know what he meant.

He didn’t make her look beautiful. He just captured her. She was beautiful to begin with.

She finally looked up from the drawing, staring at him with slightly open lips, her amber eyes wider than usual. Then she must have realized she looked so shocked because her facial expressions became more neutral, and she looked down.

But Grayson still saw that look on her face. The complex one, the one with a million different emotions on it.

She always wore that one around him.

“I should be going.” she repeated, this time with more certainty as her eyes squeezed shut. Grayson frowned.

“Come here.” he said. Lyra’s eyes opened, staring at him, and she hesitated before walking over to him. He stared at her as she came closer. Once she reached his bedside, Grayson felt possessed by a more fearless spirit.

Or maybe that was just what being in Lyra’s proximity did to him.

Taking her hand in his, Grayson brought her hand to his lips, giving her knuckles a soft kiss as he held her gaze. Her neck tinged pink, her lips parting slightly in shock.

“Thank you.” He said in a quiet tone. For taking care of me, he finished in his head. Lyra was silent at first, before answering.

“You’re welcome, Gray.” The words rolled off his tongue so quickly that Grayson thought he misheard her. Gray. He squeezed his eyes shut, dropping her hand softly as his head leaned back to hit his headboard. Gray. Gray. Gray. He peeled his eyes open to see her staring at him.

“Goodnight.” she whispered. He gave her hand a squeeze.

“Goodnight.” he replied, his tone low and slightly hoarse. She smiled slyly, before walking towards the door, each movement fluid and graceful. She paused at the door to give him one last look, her eyes holding his in a dance of ice blue and amber gold, before she finally stepped out.

Grayson slumped in his bed. He realized then that he had forgotten all about his brothers once Lyra called.

He also realized then that it was worth it, because even with a pounding headache and eyes that were beginning to slide closed, he had never felt more at peace then he previously did at that moment.

In his room.

With Lyra Catalina Kane by his side.

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im sorry the plot changed every 3 lines but i hope you enjoyed it!! 😬😬💗

#fanfiction #fanfic #lyra x grayson fic #lyra x grayson #grayson hawthorne #lyra catalina kane #the grandest game #the inheritance games #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #lyra kane #xander hawthorne

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